#THANK YOU FOR BEING IN MY LIFE AND THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME HAPPY!
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Desk Mess CC Kit by MylittleponyOh
Hi Simmers !
Today is the big day ! The REVEAAAAL of my secret project. Because yes I've been working days on this 15 objects kit !
A little lore about the Desk Mess CC Kit : Maybe you know it, maybe you don't I AM FRENCH. And I play The Sims since... I am 11 or 12 yo. When I discovered the great world of custom contents, I was awestruck. So, I started downloading a loooooot of them. Never thinking one day I would make my own. Then in Covid 2020 I tried Blender. And a new world opened to me. It was hard. But I am very stubborn. I failed a lot. But I kept trying. So the first time I successfully added MY OWN CC into MY GAME and it worked I thought, OK THIS IS IT. I WANT TO LEARN MORE. You are going to ask yourself, why is she telling this. Why being French has something to do with this CC Kit, and I'll tell you why. As a Sims 4 addict, I watch a lot of content about Sims 4. And I have a favorite French Youtuber I follow since 2019 @kapands ! I loved her content so much, I followed her on Twitch. And I loved even more the community there. I was so happy to add my contribution to the 2024 secret Advent Calendar the community is gifting her. Following her all these years, I knew custom content was taking a great place in her way of playing The Sims 4. So I challenged myself (really afraid to fail) to create a CC Kit centred around one of her character : Bella. (2nd gen of the Into The Forest Challenge).
🔗Kapands Into The Forest Legacy Challenge 1st Episode
I wanted to thank Kapands, because she has created this awesome community I am proud to be a part of. Because she is kind and real. Because she adresses important subjects of life into her game. And also because she works so freaking much !!!!
What you need to know before downloading :
The following objects are Base Game Compatible
Bella's Comfy Chair, Bella's Desk, Bella's Rug, Bella's Cable Management Plugs 1/2/3, Bella's Cable Management Power Strip, Bella's Sticky Notes Block, Bella's Wall Planner, Bella's Wall Notes, Bella's Mug, Bella's PeachPad, Bella's Mini Maple Tree.
The following objects Request a specific EP
Bella's Diary (Parenthood), Bella's Pen Pot (Backyard Stuff)
T.O.U
Recolors are allowed, but do not include my mesh.
All recolors must include credit and link to my original mesh.
Do not reupload and claim as your own (i'll know it).
Do not reupload behind any paywall.
Download here (pick & choose)
Download here (the all collection in one click)
Join me on Patreon ( it's free !)
Click here to check out all my previous custom content !
✨ If you have any trouble with any of my cc, please reach out to me !
✨ Special thanks @syboubou for the help with the Bella Mug and helping the modders in general ! You are wonderful !
#ts4 sims#sims 4#sims 4 custom content#the sims 4#desk mess#desk mess cc kit#mlpo#mlpocc#mylittleponyoh#mylittleponyoh cc kit#mylittleponyohcc#ts4 cc#sims cc
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daylighter
🌙 starring. Jeon Wonwoo & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader
🔮 preview. Nothing in your life has ever been as sexy as this moment. Two strong men, one begging and whining while the other dominates. You, caught between them both, the source of their torment and their pleasure. They’re opposites, in temperament as well as being, after all, werewolves and vampires have historically never gotten along- but they agree about you, and right now, that’s all that matters.
tw/cw. Unprotected sex, threesome, foreplay, fingering, squirting, pussy eating, sadism, breast worship, Eiffel tower, blow job (m receiving), hand job, praise, dirty talk, degradation, power imbalances, dom!Wonwoo, Switch!Gyu, masturbation, sloppy Gyu, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.3k
🍭 aus. Supernatural au, werewolf!Gyu, Vampire!Wonwoo,
☀️ mlist + an. And with that, 2024 is complete :) I wanted to end it with a bang, and this pairing has been a staple on my blog for years now. Thank you to everyone who has supported me this year in any capacity, and happy holidays!
Prologue:
“The ascension is in a year,” the crone sighs, looking out at the room of gathered witches and allies. “I think we all agree that the timing of Seungcheol’s departure is less than ideal, especially now that we’ve narrowed down an ancestral safehouse with adequate warding.”
You frown, and your vampire protector immediately reaches out to hold your hand, giving you a reassuring squeeze.
As the future head of your coven, you have a protection detail, and Seungcheol has been an anchor in your life since you were eighteen. It had been a daring attempt at protecting you, after all, alphas like Seungcheol can’t just leave their packs to take on a witch princess as their ward, but Seungcheol had given up a lot to ensure your safety.
Now, he’s returning to his pack, to his own world, and you’re not quite sure where to go from here.
“There is, however, a replacement,” the crone continues. “A beta by the name of Kim Mingyu. He is, supposedly, a prodigy. He’s the size of an alpha, with domestic attributes that make him uniquely qualified for the assignment of protecting our future leader. Seungcheol offered Mingyu up personally when he found out we would be relocating y/n to a compound. The alpha believed, and I agree with him, that, by having Mingyu on location, it would reduce the need for extra staff to deal with cooking and maintenance. By all accounts, this beta, Mingyu, and our loyal vampire protector, Wonwoo, should be able to look after y/n completely independently, which would lower the risk of demonic attack through spies.”
Wonwoo shifts beside you, and you know the stoic man well enough to understand that small movements like this are a sign of irritation.
While Wonwoo and the wolves who’ve been a part of your protection detail in the past have all had blood ties to you, the vampire has made it clear he’s never been fond of working with ‘dogs.’
But as skilled as Wonwoo is, there’s one thing he simply can’t defeat, and that’s the sun. You’re the most protected witch in the world by night, but by day, you need a different line of defence, and that’s always been the job of wolves.
There was a vampire, once, who took care of a member of your family line during the day. An ancestor of yours had done the impossible, she’d created a ‘Daylighter Potion’ that could enable vampires to walk in the sun. That forbidden knowledge had incurred the wrath of demons. Your ancestor, as well as her daywalking companion, had been lost to a bloody history, and with them, the recipe for this transformation process.
There are still hopes of recreating the Daylighter Potion, but until then, this Kim Mingyu is necessary. You can only pray he’s cut from the same cloth as your exiting alpha.
One:
The wards are definitely strong, something Mingyu realizes as he approaches the large compound house he’ll be protecting you in from now on. The location is also super secluded, with the nearest town over an hour away.
If you’re looking to protect someone, this is definitely the place to do it, and when Wonwoo opens the door to the large home, Mingyu realizes immediately that the stoic vampire is as formidable as Seungcheol had made him out to be.
Power oozes off the immortal being, and Mingyu, despite his size, suddenly feels quite small.
“Hi,” Mingyu says, forcing a smile and an extended hand, “I’m Mingyu.”
“You’re late,” Wonwoo responds, pushing the door open and turning to walk away, clearly expecting Mingyu to follow.
“Yeah, I uh, got turned around on the roads. My GPS shit itself.”
Wonwoo remains quiet, and Mingyu hurries to keep up with him.
“I’ll give you a tour, then you’ll go meet y/n,” Wonwoo sighs, and thus, the exploration of the house begins.
Mingyu does his best to be quiet, to take in the information. Wonwoo seems like the type to only say something once, and Mingyu doesn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with him.
Seungcheol had also warned Mingyu about the vampire’s general hatred for werewolves, so Mingyu knows this isn’t a friendship or working relationship that will be earned overnight.
“Can I uh, ask a few questions?” Mingyu enquires as the tour comes close to an end.
“If they’re not stupid.”
Mingyu forces a laugh, but it’s clear from the vampire’s expression that he had been serious, so the chuckle dies down quickly. “Why only two guards?”
“The location is remote enough to be quite secure, as is the warding,” Wonwoo responds smoothly. “Think of this house like the Pentagon, no outside entity has ever breached it.”
“And the demons who are after y/n, it’s because she’s set to be the next crone?”
“In part,” Wonwoo sighs, folding his arms over his chest. “She’s very powerful, and there are certain potions that only she can produce, potions that were lost.”
“What kind of potions?” Witches are known for their tonics, sure, but Mingyu’s never assumed potions to be the most interesting aspect of being a spell caster.
“Old ones,” Wonwoo states, signaling the end of the line of questioning. He begins to walk again, and Mingyu follows, biting his tongue as his mind runs a million miles an hour.
Mingyu can smell the greenhouse solarium before he’s even entered it. The scent of fresh herbs, flowers and general greenery is delightful in comparison to the mustiness of everything else in the old mansion, and Mingyu takes a deep breath as he enters the space.
It’s dark out, but the room is illuminated with fairy lights, their reflections twinkling in all of the windows. It had begun to rain just as Mingyu had pulled up with his truck, and the soft pattering of water on glass is more soothing than the wolf had expected.
“Y/N,” Wonwoo says, drawing your attention from where you’re seated on a couch, pouring over old books. “This is Mingyu.”
You look up, and Mingyu’s immediately struck by your beauty. The final thing Seungcheol had warned him about was your looks, but his description of you hadn’t done your features justice. There’s a power in your eyes, but a softness in everything else. You’re not some old crone, not by a long shot.
Mingyu’s alpha had told Mingyu that the vampire guarding you has somewhat of an interest in you, an interest that goes beyond that of protector. Seungcheol had figured that if you, a powerful witch, were going to favour someone, it would be better if it was a wolf than a blood sucker- but even if he hadn’t told Mingyu to get close to you, one look at your lovely smile as you stand to greet him is enough to make Mingyu want to know you better.
“How was the drive?” you ask, pushing your book to the side and stretching.
Your cardigan falls slightly off your shoulder, and God, Mingyu’s eyes take in your newly exposed skin like a man dying of hydration takes in water. He swallows the lump in his throat-
“The dog got lost,” Wonwoo responds before Mingyu gets the chance to.
You laugh. “That happens around here,” you assure him, “you’re definitely not the first.”
“It’s uh, a nice house,” Mingyu offers.
“It belonged to an ancestor,” you say smoothly, “so did these books.”
The werewolf smiles. “Looking for family recipes?”
“Something like that.”
Oh, so you’re potentially as secretive as Wonwoo is. What could you possibly be looking for in all these dusty old books that you don’t want to tell him about?
“You must be tired from your drive,” Wonwoo states, turning to Mingyu. “You should go to your room and rest, I’ll take care of y/n now, and when the sun rises, I’ll come get you for your first shift.”
Two:
You wake up slowly, yawning as you stretch. Your motion knocks a book off your bed and you groan. You’d fallen asleep late in the early morning hours, pouring over books with Wonwoo beside you. Your vampire guard is nowhere to be seen, but there’s a knock on your door and a moment later, Mingyu is poking his head inside.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, just dropped a book,” you respond, leaning over your bed to pick up the diary.
“What were you reading?”
“An ancestor’s journal,” you groan, still trying to shake away your morning grogginess.
“Any hot gossip from the middle ages?” the werewolf jokes with a boyish grin.
“Nothing too interesting,” you grin. “Give me a sec to get dressed, then we’re going to go for a walk.”
“A walk?”
“In the forest, I need some mushrooms that aren’t growing in the solarium.”
With a nod, the werewolf goes back to his post outside your door. You take your time getting ready, even going so far as to brush your teeth. Werewolves have sensitive noses, and the last thing you’d want is for some hot beta to smell your morning breath.
Half an hour later, you and Mingyu are walking through the woods.
You’d written a list of various mushrooms and plants you’d need from your readings last night, and Mingyu is holding your basket as the two of you scour the trees and forest floor for potion ingredients.
You notice that Mingyu is quite twitchy. Every sound, every bird flying overhead, draws his eyes.
“We’re quite safe here, you know,” you laugh, thinking his behaviour is adorable.
“Can’t let anything happen to you,” the werewolf muses.
“You sound like Wonwoo.”
“Has he been protecting you for long?”
“Since I was eighteen,” you nod, bending down to collect some moss.
“You two must be close.”
“We are.” Your relationship with Wonwoo isn’t something you spend a lot of time dwelling on. He’s your guard, and you’re pretty sure that’s all you are to him, a precious witch he needs to protect due to vampire blood pacts.
You care about him, sure, but Wonwoo’s never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve, so you’re okay with it being a one sided affection.
“Anyways,” Mingyu sighs, reading your cues and changing the subject, “what potion are you going to make?”
“There are a few I want to try, old things from the texts.”
“Anything interesting?”
“I found a perplexing potion for dog smells, not that I’m saying you smell, but I know Wonwoo always hated Seungcheol’s scent. I figured he might not look so sour whenever you’re around if you smelt better.”
To your surprise, the werewolf laughs. “So you’re making me cologne from moss and mushrooms?”
“Something like that,” you smile.
“Wonwoo was being secretive last night about the potions you make, I figured maybe there was some, I don’t know, super love spell or something crazy that you’d be creating.”
“No super love spells, I don’t believe in those,” you admit. “There are old potions in the texts on the property, things that were lost, for one reason or another. My brewing skills are a little rusty so I figured I’d start with the more mundane recipes before I try anything too extreme.”
“How extreme are we talking?” Mingyu asks. You cast him a sideways glance and he holds up a hand. “I don’t mean to pry, I just… I don’t think I’ve ever met a witch before, I don’t know much about what you guys do with those big pots and stuff.”
“Cauldrons,” you correct him, your body relaxing again. You take a deep breath. “Mingyu?”
“Yeah?”
“I can trust you, right?”
“A hundred percent,” he nods, an ernest expression on his face.
You stand up from your moss patch, moving to set some in Mingyu’s basket. “There’s a specific potion I want to make, and I think the recipe might be somewhere in the old books here.”
“What kind of potion?”
You take another deep breath, trying to decide how to word your response. “Basically, my line has a strong tie to vampires, and we have this tie, because one of my ancestors made a potion. We call it the Daylighter potion, it enables vampires to walk in the sun.”
Mingyu’s jaw drops as he stares at you.
“Yeah, I know, it feels like fairytale, part of me isn’t sure it’s even a real recipe- but the vampires who swear to protect my family think it was real.”
“Does Wonwoo think it’s real?”
“Yes, it’s one of the reasons he’s protecting me. Could you imagine, being a vampire who could walk in the sun? He would be the most powerful vampire in the world.”
Mingyu frowns. “Is it a good idea? To make him more powerful, I mean.”
You contemplate the question for a moment. “Wonwoo has never been anything but good to me. Sure, there are repercussions for knowledge like the Daylighter potion recipe, I mean, my ancestor who created it went missing and was found dead months later-”
“Did she use it? On a vampire?”
You nod. “By all accounts, she used it on her own protector.”
“And did he… you know, did he kill her?”
You shake your head. “No, he was found dead with her. Besides, when vampires make blood ties to witches, they have a curse set on them, they can’t harm us, directly, or indirectly.”
“Sounds like a powerful curse,” Mingyu frowns. “Do uh… the werewolves that work with you have the same curse?”
“Do you need to be muzzled, Mingyu?” you grin.
He shakes his head. “Definitely not.”
“Good.”
You continue your foraging, and Mingyu is quiet for a while before he begins asking questions again.
“So uh… do you just want to use this Daylighter potion in Wonwoo because he’s your protector, or…”
“Why are you so curious about my relationship with Wonwoo?” you counter.
He shrugs, but it’s way too nonchalant of a motion to be believable. “No reason.”
You narrow your eyes at him, but decide to let it go. Mingyu may be eluding to things, but it’s his first day here, if he wants to speculate about your connection to Wonwoo, he can guess all he wants. He’ll see how things work around here soon enough.
Three:
Wonwoo is exiting his blacked out bedroom the moment the sun has set sufficiently for him to stalk around the old mansion.
He has a one track mind, and the vampire follows his senses to the dining room, where you and Mingyu are sitting to eat dinner.
It takes a moment for Wonwoo to survey the surrounding area. The smell of garlic and ginger is quite potent, and it appears that the wolf has made you some sort of ramen. “Wonwoo!” you grin excitedly, “Mingyu’s an amazing cook, I wish you could try this!”
The wolf’s heart skips a beat, and it irks Wonwoo, who simply scoffs and heads to the kitchen to grab his blood bag. He’s irritated when he’s hungry, and Wonwoo can feel himself calming down as he rejoins you in the dining room.
Wonwoo takes his seat next to you, mindful of the books strewn about. He picks one up, beginning to flip through it. “How was your day?” he asks you.
“It was good,” you respond casually. “We went for a walk, gathered some moss and mushrooms, I’ve got a potion brewing right now that I think you’re going to like.”
Wonwoo casts you a sideways glance, had you found the Daylighter recipe?
“It’s like werewolf cologne,” Mingyu pipes up from the other side of the table. “Gonna make me not smell so bad.”
Wonwoo’s gaze shifts to Mingyu, and he feels irritation bubbling inside of himself again. Logically, it’s clear that the new wolf is trying to be friendly, and he’s taking steps to mask odor- but Wonwoo just can’t find any friendship in his heart for Mingyu.
He gets the sense that you and Mingyu have bonded today, and the way you’re eating up the ramen Mingyu made isn’t doing anything to help settle the uneasy feeling in Wonwoo’s stomach.
Seungcheol’s an alpha, and Wonwoo had respected him. Cheol had come with one goal, and one goal alone, to protect you. As an alpha, he had a whole life to go back to- but this beta, well, Wonwoo’s not too sure about how this ‘protection detail’ might pan out.
It’s clear Mingyu’s attracted to you, Wonwoo had seen it in his eyes the moment he’d met you last night. This little wolf crush is irritating, and Wonwoo hates being irritated.
Wonwoo’s gaze shifts to you. It’s unclear to him how you feel about your new day guard. You seem happy to be eating, so any emotions you have toward the werewolf will be skewed due to the joy you’re getting from the ramen.
No, Wonwoo will have to watch the two of you together closely, but, at the moment, he’s more concerned about getting Mingyu out of here so he can enjoy you himself.
“It’s about time you go to bed, wolf,” Wonwoo says.
“It’s still early,” Mingyu argues.
“Sunrise is at six fourty-five,” the vampire counters. “I’m sure you’ve had a long first day. You should rest.”
This time, Wonwoo makes sure to leave no room in his tone for objection, and with a very doglike look of defeat, Mingyu sighs.
“Okay, yeah, I can go to bed.”
Wonwoo watches as Mingyu lifts up his bowl of ramen, and in two massive, wolfish slurps, he devours the rest of his food.
“Goodnight, y/n,” Mingyu smiles before heading to the kitchen to put away his dishes.
The werewolf lingers for a few minutes, and Wonwoo relaxes when he finally leaves, lumbering up to his second floor bedroom.
“You could have been nicer to him, you know,” you muse, lifting up a book to scan the potion recipe there.
“I could have been,” Wonwoo agrees, leaving it at that.
The two of you rifle through books as you eat your dinner, and then you head to the living room. Your nightly ritual consists of watching movies together, giving you a bit of a break before you go to read before bed.
Wonwoo knows you’ve been wearing yourself thin with all the books you’ve been flipping through. You’d spent the first three days locked in the house and thoroughly examining the library with Wonwoo before Mingyu had shown up, and Wonwoo would be surprised if you’d slept even eight hours in that three day period.
No, you need rest, even if it’s only when sitting next to him on the couch with a movie going.
You fall asleep in no time, and Wonwoo lets you be. He picks up a potions book, flipping through it while the film continues in the background.
Wonwoo won’t let anything hurt you, and he’ll lighten your load in any way he can, even if it means scanning stupid witch recipes.
Four:
Mingyu’s been your guard for around a week now, and things are running smoothly, however, you can tell Wonwoo’s still not happy about the situation. It’s midnight and the two of you are in the solarium, you’re getting bored of going through books, so you sigh, setting yours down.
“How are you feeling?” you ask.
“Annoyed,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, not looking up from his book. “I swear I’ve read over fifty different love potions this week, and they’re all just as useless as the last.”
“That’s because love potions don’t work,” you sigh, moving closer to Wonwoo. “Each potion has a different flaw, so each potion is adjusted to make up for that flaw, only to be ruined in some other way. But hey, you know that’s not what I was asking you.”
“You asked how I was feeling.”
“I mean… how are you feeling about this whole Mingyu thing?”
“I feel,” Wonwoo sighs, “like we better find this Daylighter potion soon, because that werewolf cologne isn’t working as well as we thought it would.”
“Is it just his smell you don’t like?” you ask.
“I don’t like dogs,” Wonwoo states, still not looking at you.
“I know werewolves and vampires don’t get along, but I mean, he’s a nice guy, don’t you think?”
Wonwoo stays silent, an answer in and of itself.
You groan. “Even if we do find the Daylighter potion, even if I’m able to brew it, you can’t protect me twenty four seven. I think Mingyu is going to be with us longer than anticipated.”
“I can protect you,” Wonwoo declares, finally raising his eyes to meet your own. “When you brew the potion, and I can walk in the sun, I can protect you always.”
“Even vampires need a little rest every now and again,” you sigh. “Besides, is that really what you want? To protect some young witch until she’s an old lady?”
Wonwoo’s eyes shift downward again. “You’re not just some young witch.”
You continue staring at Wonwoo, trying your best to read him. You wonder if maybe he does care for you, if Mingyu’s seeing something you’re not. Why would Wonwoo be so protective of you if he didn’t have some sort of feeling for you? He clearly doesn’t just want the Daylighter potion so he can leave you and go be a powerful vampire elsewhere.
God, he’s so confusing at times.
You let out a breath. “I told Mingyu about the potion.”
“What?”
“The Daylighter potion, I told Mingyu.”
Wonwoo closes his book, and you can tell from his expression that he’s irritated. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Who’s he going to tell?” you retort. “Seungcheol? Even if he did, what would Cheol even do about it?”
“If the wolves ever found out there was a potion to make vampires walk in the sunlight, they’d come destroy this whole house, and they’d kill you too, just for good measure.”
“Seungcheol just spent years protecting me,” you argue. “He would never do that, and besides, Mingyu won’t tell anyone.”
“What makes you so certain?”
“I just am, call it witch’s intuition.”
To your surprise, Wonwoo actually cracks a smile. He shakes his head, releasing a sigh. “Fine.”
“Fine,” you echo, picking up your book again to continue reading.
The two of you sit silently as you work, but your mind begins to drift.
In a way, it’s almost as if Wonwoo feels threatened by Mingyu, as if- he’s jealous. There’d never been this aura when Seungcheol was around, but then again, Seungcheol had never been a real threat, even though he was an alpha… maybe, especially because he was an alpha.
You’re attracted to both Wonwoo and Mingyu, but you’ve always pushed that attraction aside with your vampire protector, always convinced yourself he didn’t view you in that light.
Mingyu’s arrival is stirring the cauldron, and you’re not quite sure what to make of it.
Five:
It’s been almost a month with no issue. Mingyu’s gotten used to everything, used to the constant reading, the constant witchy little foraging adventures. He’s just gotten used to you, and maybe, in someways, Wonwoo as well.
The werewolf is currently sitting outside your bedroom as you shower in your ensuite. The two of you had been checking wards when it had started to rain, and you’d been shivering so much when you made it back to the house that Mingyu had insisted you heat yourself up.
He does his best not to listen when you’re in the shower, not to be overtly aware- but even with two doors between you, his senses are too strong not to be honed in on everything, especially with a full moon approaching in three days.
You have a bodywash you make, and although the strong pleasant scent of eucalyptus and rosemary is predominant in the air that wafts under the doors, there’s something beneath it too, a smell that Mingyu knows all too well.
He can’t hold it against you though, he’s pretty sure you’re all a little horny from being cooped up like this- well, maybe not Wonwoo, but Mingyu’s definitely been feeling it. The bathroom is the only place you have any real privacy, and lately, Mingyu’s noted that you’ve begun to use the seclusion to your advantage.
The running water muffles your sounds, but even the world’s best witchy bodywash can’t cover your scent, and Mingyu sits there, doing his best not to gulp it down like a starving animal.
He can feel the blood rushing to his cock, and he does his best to turn his brain off, to calm down- after all, he can’t have you exiting the shower and seeing him hard in his pants.
God, Mingyu had never even considered that horniness would be a problem in a situation like this.
At least he gets to go to his room every night and do what needs to be done- but you, you have a guard within 10 feet of you at all times.
He wonders if you do this at night, when Wonwoo’s outside your door. And for the first time, Mingyu wonders if Wonwoo’s as tormented by the sexual nature of seclusion as he is.
It’s not something he’ll be able to ask the vampire, as much as Wonwoo tolerates Mingyu now, that’s a line he won’t cross.
Six:
When Mingyu had first come to the house, he’d just finished a full moon cycle. Wonwoo had spent a couple of hours with him while you were sleeping one night, preparing a game plan for the wolf’s ‘time of the month.’
As your night protector, Wonwoo had told Mingyu to go deep into the woods on the night of the full moon. If he was far enough away, the thought was that Mingyu would just stay in the forest, leaving you to your own devices for the night.
Even if Mingyu did make it to the house in his raged-out wolf form, Wonwoo would protect you, and Mingyu had given him permission to do so.
While Mingyu can transform at any time, full moons are the only transformations that are purely animalistic. All Mingyu is, his very soul, practically disappears. Full moons are when werewolves are at their most dangerous, but Wonwoo is confident in his strategies after spending years helping Seungcheol through his dark side.
Cheol had always spent the day after full moons passed out in the woods somewhere, his body recuperating from a mind/body disconnection of that caliber. Once a month, Wonwoo would do a double shift, and you’d spend the day resting with him in blacked-out rooms.
The two of you get through many books, and when you’re hungry, Wonwoo lets you head down to the kitchen for no more than ten minutes just to grab leftovers.
It’s a decent set up, and Wonwoo enjoys getting to be with you for a lengthy period. However, the night after the full moon, when you go to sleep, Wonwoo leaves you to head into the forest. Mingyu, like Seungcheol had been, is not hard to find. His scent is overwhelming, and Wonwoo discovers the large man asleep in a bed of moss.
Wonwoo’s no stranger to nudity, not after dealing with Seungcheol, so he simply bends down, lifting Mingyu onto his shoulders.
‘This is just a professional courtesy,’ the vampire tells himself as he takes Mingyu back to the house, gently lowering him into the tub.
Mingyu’s covered in dirt, and blood too- if his entire being wasn’t tainted by the scent of dog, Wonwoo might actually be tempted to go in for a bite, but the thought of drinking from Mingyu makes Wonwoo’s nose scrunch as he turns on the water.
Wolves can handle heat, and Mingyu groans a little, shifting in the tub. The bathroom begins to fill with steam and Wonwoo finds a wash cloth. He coats the fabric in body wash, and then, with a sigh, Wonwoo begins to wash Mingyu.
The wolf’s arms are especially dirty, so Wonwoo starts with those, and little by little, Mingyu begins to regain consciousness.
Then, all at once, the werewolf is thrashing awake, pulling his arm away from Wonwoo. “What-”
“Relax, you had a particularly bad change last night,” Wonwoo sighs, putting the wash cloth down.
“Were you just…” Mingyu’s confused gaze dips down to the discarded cloth, “washing me?”
“You smell terrible,” Wonwoo states bluntly. “Seungcheol had a habit of coming home from full moons and just getting into bed. We don’t have staff here, and I refuse to have ruined sheets, or change the laundry schedule.”
There are definitely factual, logical reasons for Wonwoo taking care of Mingyu, and without those reasons, Wonwoo would never dream of bathing a dog. But… Mingyu has been a good addition to your protection detail. He’s substantially more respectful than Seungcheol had been. He’s clean, and he cooks, and the kitchen is always spotless after he makes you meals.
While Wonwoo respected Seungcheol, the vampire, as much as he hates to admit it to himself, somewhat enjoys the young prodigy wolf.
Wonwoo doesn’t respect the clumsy, gentle giant, not by any means, but perhaps, the vampire is starting to realize, there’s more to judging someone than just by their ability and enthusiasm for violence.
Seven:
You’re sitting in a field of flowers, and the colors are wonderous. The sun is out, and the dress you’re wearing has the perfect amount of flow to it as you lounge on your picnic blanket.
You lean back, releasing a deep sigh, and that’s when a hand drags up your arm.
You turn to see your vampire protector and your heart leaps in your chest. “Wonwoo! The sun!”
“The sun doesn’t matter anymore,” he shakes his head. “You cured me, remember?”
“I did?”
“The potion,” Wonwoo grins, leaning forward, his lips ghosting over your throat. “You cured me of my affliction to the sun.”
Confusion is bubbling inside of you, but as Wonwoo begins to kiss your neck, the confusion dies down. Your fingers thread in his hair. “I did cure you,” you muse, giving in to the feeling of him.
“We found the recipe in the book, at the house.”
“The house,” you murmur.
“Which house was it again? I can’t remember.”
He doesn’t remember the house? That’s odd. Wonwoo remembers everything-
A distant voice draws your attention. It’s calling your name, and it sounds so familiar-
“Tell me where you are,” Wonwoo urges.
“We’re in a field?”
“Tell me where you are,” the vampire repeats, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing painfully. When you look into his eyes, they’re completely black, and your heart leaps in your chest. Horns grow out of his head, and a moment later, it’s no longer Wonwoo in front of you, it’s a demon.
“Y/N, wake up!” a booming voice tears you away, and suddenly, you’re not in the field anymore. Your eyes snap open and you sit up abruptly, heart still racing in your chest.
You feel arms wrap around you, and you realize it’s Wonwoo, the real Wonwoo.
“I had the strangest dream,” you breathe, still trying to make sense of the whole thing.
“It was an incubus,” Wonwoo tells you. “I could sense that he’d entered your mind.”
“He was trying to find out where we are, to see if I’d made the Daylighter potion yet,” you whisper.
“Did you tell him anything?” Your vampire protector freezes next to you.
“No.” You shake your head. “I didn’t say anything.”
You hear someone release a breath, and you look up to find a frazzled Mingyu standing there. His hair is messy from sleep, and he’s shirtless, wearing only a pair of boxers. “What the fuck is an incubus?”
“Incubi are above your pay grade,” Wonwoo states simply, holding you closer. “Demons don’t generally get involved with lower levels like us, but the Daylighter potion would disrupt their system.”
“Right,” Mingyu nods, but you can tell he doesn’t fully understand. “Anyways, are we good? You’re good?” He approaches you, holding out a hand.
You grab his extended palm, squeezing gently. “I’m okay.”
As your heart stops racing, your body begins to focus on a different feeling.
It had been an incubus in your dream, and incubi feed off of one thing: sexual energy.
You suddenly feel very hot, in bed, between Mingyu and Wonwoo- God, you’d woken up from a nightmare only to find yourself in your best daydream.
Wonwoo stiffens beside you, and Mingyu’s grip on your hand tightens, his pupils visibly blowing in size.
Can they… sense that you’re horny?
Fuck… can they smell it with their God damned super senses?
You suddenly feel like a bunny caught between two predators, but for some reason, you’re not actually scared. Both men have the capacity for violence, but you know, in your heart of hearts, that they would never, ever hurt you.
“We should let her sleep,” Wonwoo says, voice low.
He begins to pull away but you cling tighter to him, your grip increasing on Mingyu’s hand too.
“No,” you breathe, swallowing thickly to get rid of the lump in your throat. “I uh… Don’t go.”
“Y/N,” Wonwoo warns, “This could end badly.”
“At this point, I don’t care,” you admit. The vampire looks at you for a few seconds, and you can tell he’s trying to get a read on your emotions. You cup his cheek with your free hand. “This is long overdue.”
Wonwoo stares at you, and for a moment, you think he’s going to pull away, but then, he leans forward, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time. He’s kissing you softly, showing a gentleness that you hadn’t quite expected.
You release a groan immediately, shifting closer-
Mingyu tugs in your hand. “I’ll just leave.”
You break your kiss with Wonwoo, turning to look at the wolf in the room. “Don’t go,” you whimper. “I want both of you.”
You catch Mingyu’s gaze shifting to Wonwoo uncertainly, and you feel the vampire tense at your side.
“Both of us?” Wonwoo asks, voice shockingly level considering what you’d just suggested.
“Both,” you repeat, nodding. “I just- I don’t know, you’re both my protectors. I feel like, if I only slept with one of you, it would throw off the dynamic.”
“So you want us both… for the dynamic?” Wonwoo clarifies.
“That sounds horrible,” you groan. “I’m still sleepy- look, I’m attracted to both of you, I care about you both in different ways. Please don’t make me choose.”
You watch Mingyu and Wonwoo exchange a look again, but this time Wonwoo sighs and Mingyu shrugs.
“I won’t step on your toes,” Mingyu promises, addressing the vampire.
Wonwoo releases another exasperated breath. “If anyone knew I was agreeing to share a bed with a dog-”
“He’s a werewolf, don’t be rude,” you chastize, nudging Wonwoo in the ribs.
“Dude, you’ve already seen me naked,” Mingyu points out, and your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.
“What?”
“He carried me in the other night, after the full moon. I woke up in the bath and he was practically grooming me.”
Your eyes shift to Wonwoo in shock and he downplays it with a shrug. “I told you, I don’t like dirt on the sheets.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure we’re about to make a mess of this bedding,” Mingyu says, voice lowering as he steps closer.
“I don’t care,” you breathe. “Enough talk.”
“Whatever you say, princess,” Mingyu grins, leaning down and grabbing your jaw. He brings his lips to yours and you immediately groan, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. He’s so warm and big, there’s a muskiness to his scent, but it doesn’t remind you of dog. It reminds you of the forest, of sanctuary, and it makes you lean in even more as Mingyu kisses your breath away.
Wonwoo shifts beside you, his hands fanning up and down your arms, then, you feel a second set of lips on your shoulder.
Your sleeping shirt has shifted down a little, allowing Wonwoo to have full access to your skin. Each cold kiss is a contrast to Mingyu’s warmth, and it makes you shiver between your two large protectors.
It seems Wonwoo’s the one with less patience out of the two men, which is something you’re not expecting as he grabs the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it off your body.
You’d not been wearing a bra to bed, and your nipples pebble at the cool air of the room when they’re newly exposed. You groan when two hands grab your breasts, one hot, one cold. It seems both men have a thing for tits, and you can’t say you’re mad about it as they begin to massage you, drawing even more sounds of pleasure from your lips.
It’s Wonwoo who pinches your nipple first and you gasp against Mingyu’s mouth, breaking the kiss to turn and look at Wonwoo over your shoulder. He kisses you deeply, his free hand grabbing the back of your head to draw you close.
You get so lost in Wonwoo that you don’t realize Mingyu has adjusted until wet, hot lips wrap around one of your nipples.
You whimper loudly, pulling away from Wonwoo to look down at Mingyu. His eyes are closed and he groans as he begins to suck diligently on your sensitive bud, his tongue lapping at you in a way you’ve never quite experienced.
“Shit,” you moan, threading your fingers through Mingyu’s hair.
“I’m getting tired of his smell,” Wonwoo sighs beside you. “I know a way to cover it up.”
Mingyu pulls off your nipple, confusion written on his face.
“You both trust me, right?” the vampire asks, looking between you and the wolf.
“Yes?” you offer, not sure what else to say.
“Y/N, lay on the edge of the bed, Mingyu you’re on the ground below,” Wonwoo instructs.
You exchange a glance with Mingyu, but he shrugs, following through. Wonwoo helps you to the edge of the bed, adjusting so he’s behind you, your smaller body between his legs, ensnared.
“Take her shorts off,” Wonwoo instructs, and Mingyu’s even quicker to follow through with that command than the first.
You release a shuddery breath as your silky shorts are dragged down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to the two men.
Wonwoo’s hand wraps around your body, his fingers seeking out your clit.
You groan as he begins to stroke the sensitive bud, his lips tracing kisses along your throat. “Be good for us,” Wonwoo warns, his digits easily pushing into your wet core.
You whimper, shifting in his embrace. Wonwoo’s free hand braces across your chest, grabbing your breast and pinching at your nipple.
A quiver shakes through your thighs, and when you look down at Mingyu, you find him watching each movement with extreme interest.
Two of Wonwoo’s fingers begin to work open your pussy, and he begins to crook them up toward your gspot, making your legs shake even more.
“Have you ever squirted before?” Wonwoo asks, breath hot along your ear.
It feels so odd to be hearing him speak to you in this context, but at the same time, it feels so right.
“I’ve never-” you shake your head, swallowing thickly as your words get caught in your throat.
“Good, then we’ll be your first,” Wonwoo smirks against your neck. “You’ll feel pressure, don’t try to fight it, just let your body do what it’s going to do, okay?”
“Okay.” You nod.
Wonwoo presses one more kiss to your shoulder before his hand begins to move again. He expertly thrusts his fingers up to that special spot, and within seconds you can hear the wetness of your pussy with each movement.
Mingyu gets closer, and he’s on his knees now. He’s looking between your pussy, your breasts and your face, as if he can’t quite decide what to focus on.
“Gonna squirt on your wolf, make him smell like you, mark him the way wolves usually mark their mates,” Wonwoo tells you, his voice low in your ear.
You whimper at his words, skin beginning to tingle as pleasure unlike anything else builds in the pit of your stomach.
“Rub your clit for me,” Wonwoo commands next. “I think you’re just about ready for it.”
Your hand is shaking as you bring it between your thighs, gently drawing circles on your sensitive bud as Wonwoo continues to work your pussy, his motions getting even faster, and harder-
You groan desperately, throwing your head back against Wonwoo’s shoulder as a powerful release overtakes you. It’s like a pressure on your abdomen, but it’s so delightful at the same time, your body overwhelmed by it all.
You can’t open your eyes, can’t do anything but rub your clit as Wonwoo makes you feel something you’ve never felt.
You’re aware of a wetness between your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care as Wonwoo continues to work the pleasure out of you.
Finally, he’s tearing his fingers out of you, only to land a gentle smack to your pussy that has you yelping and shaking.
The moment his hand is gone, it’s replaced with a mouth, and your entire body jolts, eyes snapping open to see Mingyu between your thighs. He grabs at you, keeping you steady as his tongue pushes into your tight pussy, lapping at the walls that Wonwoo had just ravaged with his fingers.
The werewolf sucks your clit into his mouth and your body shakes, chest heaving-
Squirting hadn’t felt like an orgasm per se, it had been an entirely unique experience. It was pleasurable, and amazing, but the build up hadn’t been like that of a vibrator or the like- but what Mingyu’s doing to you is familiar. You can feel the coil tightening in the pit of your stomach as he ravages your pussy.
You love how messy he’s being, how sloppy- his tongue is everywhere, in the best possible way.
“Gyu-” you whimper, reaching one hand down to tangle in his hair. You don’t want him to move, don’t want him to go anywhere- your muscles are already tensing in anticipation of the orgasm he’s going to give you, and you’ll be damned if you miss out on it.
“He feels good?” Wonwoo asks in your ear.
“So good.”
“I’ll give it to the wolf, he knows how to eat.”
There’s something about the deepness of Wonwoo’s voice, the sinful context of what he’s saying- it’s the last straw you need to fall over the edge. Your muscles tense incredibly tight before snapping, pleasure flowing through you like a river.
“Fuck!” you whimper, beginning to thrash- only for both men to hold you down. It’s clear they’re not going to let you run away from the feeling, and they keep you where they want you while Mingyu eats you through your high.
Your entire body is on fire with the pleasure, and you can feel it in every fiber of your being. It’s all consuming, in the best way.
You’re crying by the time Mingyu releases you, pulling away from your pussy. He stares up at you with dark eyes, and when he stands, you notice your squirt dripping down his chest. He’s covered in you, in your scent, and you realize why Wonwoo had wanted foreplay to be like this. Now, all either of them will smell is you, and you think they prefer it this way.
“How are we going to do this?” Mingyu asks, voice gruff, his cock straining against his boxers.
“We’ll take turns,” Wonwoo says factually, beginning to massage your breasts again. “As much as I think we’d all enjoy double penetration, I don’t want to break her. That’s something we’ll have to work up to.”
Mingyu nods. “Turns.”
“I’ll go first,” Wonwoo sighs, kissing your throat. “I’m not as into a mess as you are.”
Mingyu groans, but he doesn’t fight it.
“Because you’re both being good,” the vampire continues, “y/n, you can straddle Mingyu and I’ll fuck you from behind while you both toy with each other.”
“Please be fast,” Mingyu begs, “I don’t know how much I can hold off.”
“You’ll have to,” Wonwoo counters. “Only good dogs get treats.”
An expression blooms across the werewolf features, it’s a mix of lust, annoyance and confusion. You can tell he’s turned on by what Wonwoo just said, but there’s a lack of connection between the feeling, and the logistics that are probably running through Mingyu’s mind.
Unlocking new kinks is always confusing, but that’s not something you dwell on as you becon Mingyu to get onto the bed.
He lays down and you’re quick to grab his boxers, dragging them down in record speed.
Fuck, Mingyu’s huge- it makes you drool. “I want to suck him off,” you whimper.
Mingyu groans deeply. “Fuck.”
“You can do whatever you want,” Wonwoo coos as you get into position, on your knees, looking down at Mingyu’s massive cock.
You grab the base, pumping it gently and looking up at Mingyu, who shifts desperately against the sheets.
He grabs the blanket, and you can tell he’s already close- you kind of love having this power over him. If the act of eating you out is enough to make him close to exploding- well, you wonder what sucking him off will do.
Two hands smooth across your ass, and then you feel Wonwoo’s cock swiping between your pussy lips.
“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, threading his fingers through your hair. “Can you… can you put it in your mouth?”
“You better not cum down her throat without asking permission first,” Wonwoo warns.
“I won’t, fuck, I won’t,” Mingyu whimpers, guiding you gently to his cock.
You lick at the head of it first, getting a better gauge for his size.
Mingyu shakes beneath you, hips twitching. You can sense he’s at war with himself, part of him clearly wants to apply pressure to your head and force you to take him, but another part is trying to be respectful of you. You wonder if this clash between animalistic and human sides is a result of the recent full moon-
Wonwoo’s cock slips into your wet core and you groan deeply, sinking more of your mouth onto Mingyu, who echoes your sound of pleasure.
You begin to suck on the werewolf’s tip as Wonwoo starts to slowly thrust into you, giving you more and more of his cock until he’s flush to your ass.
“That’s it,” Wonwoo groans, grabbing your hips. “Taking us both so good.”
The praise makes your entire body vibrate with energy, and you moan around Mingyu’s cock, sucking him deeper into your mouth until he’s practically hitting the back of your throat.
“Fuck, fuck-” Mingyu is straining now and you can feel it.
“Almost looks like boytoy is going to pop before he even gets a chance at your pussy,” Wonwoo chuckles.
“No!” Mingyu blurts, “I’ll be good, just, fuck, hurry up!”
Wonwoo might not be the nicest in bed, but you are, and you pull off Mingyu’s cock, stroking it. “Take some breaths,” you tell him, resting your cheek against his thigh.
Mingyu begins to take audible gasps as he focuses on slowing himself down. You stroke him languidly, taking your time as Wonwoo’s pace increases behind you.
“You’re too nice to him,” Wonwoo groans, gripping your hips harder as he rails into you.
“Fuck, one of us has to be,” you whimper, closing your eyes so you can focus on the pleasure that’s beginning to surge through you.
“This isn’t good cop bad cop,” Wonwoo points out.
“True, but I’m also not a sadistic dom like you are,” you fire back with a moan.
You hear Wonwoo chuckle. “I guess that’s true.”
He adjusts slightly, and now, each thrust has him hitting a spot deep inside of you. “Kind of want you to cum again,” Wonwoo admits. “Can you do that for me?”
“I don’t-”
“Three times isn’t that bad,” Wonwoo points out. “Besides, Mingyu’s going to pop the moment he’s inside of you, so it’s not like he’ll make you cum.”
That’s a very good point, you realize, and you slip your hand between your thighs, rubbing your clit.
Your pussy clenches tight around Wonwoo from the stimulus and you both groan.
“That’s it,” Wonwoo breathes. “Squeezing me so well.”
Mingyu groans above you, Wonwoo’s dirty talk doing as much to turn him on as you.
“Rub harder,” Wonwoo commands, and you do as you’re told, whimpering from how good it feels. “Mingyu, tell her how good she is, the sooner she cums, the sooner you cum.”
“Fuck, baby, you’re so good!” Mingyu blurts out immediately. “Your mouth, your hand- fuck, I can’t imagine how your pussy is going to feel, oh my god-”
His hand flexes in the bed sheets and Wonwoo chuckles.
“Cum for us, please, I need to feel you,” Mingyu begs desperately.
Your core is throbbing from his words, throbbing from how well Wonwoo is fucking you.
“She’s close,” the vampire muses. “Her perfect pussy is just sucking me right back in.”
Mingyu lets out a strangled sound, and the noise is enough to throw you over the edge.
Nothing in your life has ever been as sexy as this moment. Two strong men, one begging and whining while the other dominates. You, caught between them both, the source of their torment and their pleasure. They’re opposites, in temperament as well as being, after all, werewolves and vampires have historically never gotten along- but they agree about you, and right now, that’s all that matters.
Your core clamps down on Wonwoo’s cock, squeezing him desperately as your orgasm overcomes you.
Your hand motion on Mingyu’s cock stops, body too overcome by the feeling of cumming to pay attention to anything else.
Moans and whimpers escape you, your eyes clenched shut as waves of pleasure surge through your body. Wonwoo fucks you through it, and then he releases a small gasp, his thrusts coming to a stop. You can feel his cum filling you up as he gives three more shallow efforts of movement.
You’re both breathing hard, and before you can even fully recuperate, Mingyu’s tugging at you. “My turn,” he says desperately.
Wonwoo laughs, and you can only whimper as one cock pulls out of you. Mingyu is quick to drag you up his body, and then, his own length is entering your core, stretching out your pussy unlike anything you’ve ever felt.
You moan desperately, burying your face against Mingyu’s throat.
“I’ve got you,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as he begins to fuck up into you. “Fuck, so good, shit-”
He’s definitely not going to last long, so you do your best to focus on how good he feels. You can’t even bring yourself to care that his chest is sticky and covered in your squirt, in fact, the sinful aspect kind of turns you on even more.
Your core is still throbbing from your orgasm with Wonwoo, and each time your pussy contracts around the new, large intrusion, Mingyu gasps. His breath is hot against your throat, arms strong around your body as he holds you, fucking up into you like a wild man.
“Shit, shit, shit-”
“Cum for me,” you tell him, nuzzling against his jaw. “You’ve been a good boy, let go.”
Mingyu releases a strangled sound, and then he’s squeezing you tight, filling your pussy completely as he cums deep inside of you.
It feels good in his embrace. You’re not being crushed, instead, it feels like a protective weighted blanket, and he’s so warm too- God, you could fall asleep right like this, right now, his massive cock still buried to the hilt in your wet, throbbing pussy.
Mingyu’s heart is racing in his chest, and you’re both breathing heavily, but slowly he releases you.
“Take her to the shower, I’ll clean this all up,” Wonwoo’s voice draws you out of your daze.
“Can’t we just sleep?” Mingyu groans.
“You werewolves and the most unclean people I’ve ever met,” Wonwoo snaps, and you feel Mingyu sink beneath you, dejected.
“Come on, Gyu, a shower would be nice,” you encourage him, pressing kisses against his throat.
“Okay,” Mingyu sighs.
He stands a moment later, cradling you in his arms as he takes you to the bathroom. The two of you begin to wash each other, careful of all the cum. He’s so soft with you, so gentle, and you’ve never been this relaxed.
When you’re both clean, you go back to your room, collapsing onto your bed. Wonwoo sits on one side of you, Mingyu on the other. The werewolf tugs you to his chest, being your big spoon while your hand is in Wonwoo’s lap.
“Sleep with us,” you urge him.
“I can’t, but you two should get some rest,” Wonwoo sighs.
You’re so exhausted you can’t even find it within yourself to argue, and moments later, you’re falling asleep, basking in the warmth of the man behind you, and the comfort of your vampire protector watching guard.
Eight:
Wonwoo’s thoughts are turbulent as you and Mingyu sleep next to him. The sex had been amazing, and shockingly enough, Wonwoo hadn’t quite minded having the werewolf there. It’s clear that Mingyu is good for you, and at the end of the day, your wellbeing trumps Wonwoo’s own possessive tendencies.
He’s not one to dwell on things, so Wonwoo reaches for the ancestral diary on your bedside table. It’s not a recipe or spell book, so you’ve not spent a lot of time going through it, but Wonwoo just need something to distract himself.
It’s only hours later when Wonwoo comes across a specific passage that makes him stop. It’s the first mention of the Daylighter potion he’s seen anywhere, and he continues to read, eager for the recipe.
‘The potion was supposed to cure sun affliction, and it did, but the concoction did more than that. It cured the vampirism as a whole. My protector, my guardian, now but a man. Powerless as a babe, but as fierce as he’s ever been. No other vampire would want this, so I’ve torn out the page with the ingredients. This potion, perhaps, is best left in history. No one should have the power to cure vampirism, least of all the witches. This could shift the tides in a war that’s been lasting centuries. The witches should not have this power, nor should the wolves or the demons. No one should have this power. The Daylighter potion was a success, but it was also the worst thing I’ve ever created. May the Goddess forgive me for this abuse of power.’
Wonwoo rereads the passage five times before he puts the book aside, trying to steady himself.
This whole time- they’d assumed the potion would cure a vampire’s weakness to sun. No one ever considered that the Daylighter potion might cure vampirism all together.
Wonwoo had wanted the potion so he could protect you day or night, but how could he protect you if he was a mortal?
If he was a mortal… if he was like you and Mingyu, could he grow old with you?
But… what use would growing old with you be if he could never keep you safe?
Wonwoo’s overcome with emotion as he stares down at you and Mingyu.
This was never an outcome he’d expected, and he’s not sure how you’ll react.
The vampire decides not to tell you about this information. He decides to simply be there for you as long as you want him. He decides to let you sleep, unburdened by the discovery he’s just made. And finally, Wonwoo decides that you are more important than him being a Daylighter. He’ll choose the eternal night with you over the sunshine, and it’s his own choice to make.
Wonwoo doesn’t know who he is if he’s not your protector, so he decides that’s exactly what he’ll continue to be.
☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I love working on fics that center on these two, and It was so fun to write their dynamic :) Thanks again for supporting me this year, and I can't wait to see you guys in 2025!
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🔮 preview. You’ve learned new spells and potions, but your education in a more sexual nature has grown too. Being with two men has its own learning curve, and you’ve been a more than willing student.
cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, double penetration, anal, oral, pussy eating, spanking, praise, dirty talk, degradation, mentions of porn, threesome, pussy stretching, breast worship, overstim, multiple reader orgasms, etc…
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.9k I teaser wc. 120
🌙 starring. Wonwoo & Mingyu x afab!Reader
bonus
It’s been four months of living in a house full of books, but it’s been two months since Wonwoo revealed to you the truth about the Daylighter potion.
It has been hard to accept at first, and many night had been spent discussing it with Wonwoo. Your vampire protector has stood firm on his opinions, and you’ve had to accept the fact that he wants to continue to be immortal, not only for you, but for himself.
Wonwoo isn’t the oldest vampire ever, but he’s by no means the youngest either. You can’t really imagine him going back to a human form, to lose his strength and speed- no, he’ll continue to be a vampire, and the Daylighter potion has been pushed aside, no longer a priority.
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‘tis the season || one shot
joel miller x f!reader
nothing new. nothing exciting. just some pwp. major shout out to my very freaky girl @dinandwhiskey, this fic was born due to our 4am conversations about fucking Our Old Man on viagra. and to my fellow ocean unicorn @joeloverture, for the encouragement, always. and to @pedrospatch, for being my eyes, and my biggest cheerleader, you have my heart. anyway – merry christmas eve eve & happy holidays ya filthy animals. may 2025 be ever so kind to you <33
pairing: dbf!joel x reader summary: you’re back in town for christmas, and it’s been months since you’ve seen your boyfriend, joel miller. and he decides to make the most of the brief window of time you have together. or, joel fucks you after taking viagra. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ warnings: [no-outbreak au], implied age gap [no mention of ages but reader is in college], secret established long distance relationship [that’s a mouth full] [that’s what she said], drug use, joel miller on viagra is a beast, pet names [baby, darlin’, sweetheart, kiddo], sexualization of the terms kiddo & old man, [mocking] dirty talk, size kink, praise kink, daddy kink, brief mentions of smut that occurs off page [i.e: face-sitting, fingering, anal play, ass eating, a reach around handjob, f! & m! receiving oral], softdom!joel, unprotected piv, missionary, mating press, overstimulation [rip our girl she’s fighting for her life], dacryphilia, finger sucking, biting, smidge of a pain kink, creampie, squirting, joel fucks you while you’re on the phone with your father, mentions of christmas, (2) christmas puns [author apologizes in advance for said puns], probably [most likely] inaccurate and unrealistic descriptions to the effects of viagra [remember, this is fiction!!], omitting a few tags as to avoid spoilers!!, aaaaand lastly, they’re in love BYE! word count: 3.5k
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“Just one more time, sweetheart.”
You don’t respond, tongue-tied. The agonizingly slow drag of his cock inside you is too much, your mind is a blur.
Joel’s been fucking you for hours. He’s made you come six times since you practically pranced through his front door. Twice on his face, once on his fingers, and three times on his cock. And now you’re overstimulated — cunt swollen and almost begging for relief — but Joel, driven by your high-pitched moans and strained whimpers, is unable to stop himself, working to make you come just one more fucking time.
It’s thanks to that stupid little blue pill his buddy slipped him that he’d been able to fuck you for this long.
In truth, he doesn’t need it. He never needs it. He fucks you perfectly fine without it. But you’re home for the holidays, and you haven’t seen him or come successfully on your own since the beginning of the fall term, and Joel wanted to take advantage of that.
Send you back fucked so full o’me you’ll feel me in here for weeks, he’d groaned.
Your drippy hole stretched out and clamped tight around the thick girth of him. It had been so long, your face contorted at the sharp sting, and a pained hiss escaped through his gritted teeth when he pushed the delicious fat tip of his cock past your puffy folds, splitting you in two.
The warm walls of your cunt pulse around his shaft, your clit throbs against the wet thatch of thick hairs stippled gray at his base. You’re too sensitive, too tender, cunt stinging with every long stroke, but not in the way it makes you want to use your safe word.
It’s just that Joel hasn’t let up. Two hours spent making you come and he hasn’t let up once. The only time he had given you some semblance of a break was when he got up, turned around, and sat on your face at your plea — your desire to show him how good he had made you feel all those times before.
His cock in your hand, weak fist tugging away at his length while you lathed away at the tight little hole in the crease between his ass cheeks. Even then, Joel couldn't help himself; shoved three thick fingers into your puffy pussy — timing the thrust of them to the desperate pumps of your joint fists — jacking his cock in unison while you writhed beneath him, pulling another climax from you.
Only when his sweaty thighs quivered around your body, chin tilted towards the ceiling and a stream of profanities poured from his lips, his body curling over yours as hot spurts of his cum painted your soft tummy when he felt your finger slipping past his puckered rim to the knuckle, had he given you a break.
“Attagirl, just like that. Pretty little pussy’s gonna cum all over me. C’mon, baby, give it to me,” Joel’s voice is thick with arousal as he rambles above you, his hips expertly rolling into yours, head of his cock nudging that place incompetent college boys have failed to reach.
“Joel—fuck—I don’t think I can—” You gasp frantically, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, arms wound tight around him.
He smirks with another deliberate roll of his hips. “Thought you said you could keep up. Isn’t that what you said? “Naw, I reckon you said, Try keeping up, old man, wasn’t that it?” He mocks, imitating your words from earlier. Fucking bastard.
A whimpering mess, your eyes pinch shut in response.
“I can’t—” you croak, fingernails digging into his shoulders.
Deft hands brush your hair back from your face. “You can. I know you can, baby.” His voice softer, barely audible through the wet smack of his balls, smeared in the evidence of your earlier release, firmly slapping against the curve of your ass. The sounds obscenely echoing through the quiet of his bedroom.
You whimper and try fruitlessly to nod. He knows you can, and he’s right. Your hips wouldn’t be grinding up off the mattress to meet his thrusts. You wouldn’t be feeling something roiling low in your belly.
“One more time, baby. Give me one more n’ I’ll let this sore little pussy rest,” he whispers, lips kissing away your salty tears.
You nod eagerly. His hand reaches up to the headboard, fingers curling around it and locking into place, his other removes one of yours from his shoulder, pins it to the pillow above your head. And with his hand clasping your damp palm, fingers squeezing then interlocking with yours, he fucks you harder.
The change in pace has tears spilling from your eyes and pooling into the shells of your ears. The wave swells, swells, swells —
Your phone screen lights up the dark room, buzzing on Joel’s nightstand.
You freeze, neck craning in the direction of the vibration, eyes squinting and damp lashes fluttering at the bright screen, Dad, it reads.
Shit.
You gaze back up at Joel, wide-eyed, panic surging in your chest. Joel growls. “Don’t answer.”
You don’t listen. You know your father, he’ll keep calling until you answer. Without saying another word, your hand comes up to the wooden surface in search of your phone. You take a few deep breaths, trying to quell the anxious heat swirling inside you, unplug your phone from the charger, slide a shaky thumb across the screen, and press the phone to the shell of your ear.
“Hey—” You clear your throat awkwardly, ���Hey, Dad,” your voice breathy, tired.
You unstick your body from Joel’s, your free hand presses to his strong chest, a silent effort to halt his movements.
“Kid! I’m sorry to call you this late, but before you left for Eve’s, I forgot to let you know to be home in time for breakfast.”
Jesus. That could’ve been a text.
You sit up, scoot back into the pillows, while Joel sits back on his knees, wincing in unison as his cum-drenched cock slips out of your overflowing slit. Almost instantly, you feel a steady stream of his spend trickle out of your opening. He’d already managed to fill you to the brim three times tonight.
You fiddle with your bottom lip. “Breakfast? I thought we were just doing dinner.”
“Well, I thought since you’re only in town for a few days, we could go the whole nine yards. I missed our breakfasts together. I enjoy them, kid,” he says softly.
Your bleary eyes flick back to Joel. The smug grin that graces his lips and the gleam of something darker in his eyes don’t put you at ease. He’s up to something, as always.
You grumble, massaging your forehead. “Yeah, sure, Dad. I’ll be home by nine. Listen, I gotta—”
“Oh! Speakin’ of dinner, I was thinking of inviting Joel over,” your dad says, plainly.
Your heart stutters. “Joel? W-Why?”
The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches, dark eyes glimmer with mischief. Two heavy hands find your waist, and he’s sliding you back down towards him. Slow and suspicious, one of his hands finds your knee, and presses it flush to the mattress. You both watch as his other hand cups the back of your other knee, pushing it back down to match the other, exposing you to the sex-tainted air. With his eyes transfixed on the slow trickle of his spend, his hand then wraps around the base of his cock, tip lining up with your aching hole.
There it is.
“Poor guy has been asking about you, kid.” And Joel glides the head of his cock up and down your puffy seam, collecting your mixed juices on his tip then taps the heavy weight of it on your perked clit twice in quick succession; Joel smirks at the wet smack. You jolt, thighs attempting to clamp shut, his firm grip on your knee tightens, keeping you open for him.
You pinch your eyes closed and curse under your breath.
“What was that, honey?”
Your eyes snap open, and you scramble to recover, “N-nothing, I just–” You clear your throat again. “Sorry. What were you saying, Dad?”
Joel chuckles lowly as he leans forward on top of you, pressing his broad frame in on you, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. Chest to chest, belly to belly, pelvis to pelvis, tacky skin against tacky skin, once again as before. He tucks his face into the crook of your neck, and with his mouth at your other ear, his tongue darts out to lick at the salty droplet there before suckling ever so slightly on your flesh, you bite back a moan.
Your dad, oblivious to your current state, continues, “Oh— Joel’s been asking after you. Think he’s getting sick of your old man if I’m honest. He keeps telling me he misses having you around, always goin’ on about how you’ve grown up right before his eyes…”
He can hear him. You know he can by the feel of the corner of his mouth curling up into a grin, teeth grazing your carotid now. He lifts his head, dark gaze meeting yours while his massive hands cup your tits, caressing, squeezing, kneading, while muttering, Goddamn have you grown up.
Your cunt flutters around nothing, and you sigh into the phone; your dad doesn’t hear it through his rambling. You don’t register what he’s chatting away about because then, Joel’s nose nuzzles into your neck, traces a line up, up, up until his tongue snakes out and meets the curve of your earlobe. Licks the meat of it into his mouth and takes it between his teeth, your whimper cuts off into a moan when the bite turns sharp.
His fingers fiddle with your nipples. “Naughty little thing,” Joel taunts, warmth of his breath fanning across the hinge of your jaw, “You liked that?”
You keen and nod, his hand dips south between your bodies, wrapping around the base of his length, notches the too-wide cockhead at your too-small hole. You turn your head, pressing your mouth to the scruff of his beard, muffling the whine he elicits from you.
Joel pushes inside, takes a moment, and just to mess with you — he fucks his tip in and out of your drooling hole in small pulses — once, twice, thrice — teasing you, making you moan. He tilts his head, nosing your cheek, breath hot and voice deep, “Listen,” he commands.
Absentmindedly, you tilt your phone away from your ear, away from your dad’s mumblings. You strain your ears to obey him. In and out, in and out. The squelch of your sticky wet reverberates against the four walls of his bedroom as the blunt head of his cock moves in and out.
In. And out.
“Fuck,” you mutter, eyes flitting down to watch his cock impale you.
Your dad’s voice cuts in through the fog, redrawing your attention.
“Sweetie? You okay? What’s wrong?”
Your eyes widen. Shit. “I’m–I’m–fine, I– I j-just stubbed my toe. Dad, I really can’t t–” You stammer, and Joel chuckles lowly.
Your stuttering emboldens him, taking it as an invitation to torture you further, and with his lips against your ear, a breathy moan escapes from his lips as Joel feeds you his cock, slowly working himself back into your spent cunt. So painfully slow that he ensures you feel every ridge and every vein, and in turn, he feels every inch of your warm, velvet walls sucking him in as he eases himself into you. Used cunt clamped tight around him as you welcome him back in — inch by torturous inch.
He stills once he reaches resistance, and you bite your bottom lip hard enough that you taste copper, suppressing the moan climbing up your chest as his tip knocks your cervix, heavy balls pressed flush to your ass — finally bottoming out inside you.
He ruts into you once, tip bumps your cervix again — goading you, and you gasp in return, fingernails indenting his shoulder, half–moon crescents marking his skin. Beads of sweat roll off his forehead and onto your face, mixing with the warm tears now cascading down your face, and your tongue darts out to taste it. The flavor of him — his sweat, his musk — only feeds the dizzying blur that is your mind. But through the foggy haze and the lewd, wet slap of flesh against flesh, you think you can hear your dad saying, You really need to quit the habit of walking around in the dark, kiddo.
And you think you’re nodding, an endless litany of, yes, yeah–yeah slipping past your lips, as you rush your way through the phone call with your father, uncaring. Only interested in the shifts of Joel’s hips, slowly fucking into you in measured thrusts.
Joel tuts. “Such a dirty fuckin’ girl, gettin’ off while speakin’ to her daddy.” And your grip in his hair tightens, walls tensing in response. “Attagirl, keep squeezin’ me like that. You gonna show me just how naughty you are for me, hm? Gonna let me have it with him on the phone? Gonna cream all over my cock, naughty girl?”
You nod your head numbly, mouth dry and unable to speak with the tip of his cock prodding at the soft spot inside you on every languid stroke, hips swaying back and forth.
The wave begins to crest, and despite your eager nodding at Joel only a second prior, there’s no way in hell you’re really going to come on your boyfriend’s cock — your dad’s best friend — while on the phone with your father.
Your voice claws its way up your throat, “D-dad, I’m — mmm — sorry I really have to g–” You think your thumb presses the red button, but your phone slips from your hand, dropping to the carpet with a muffled thump, and it’s too late to check if you’ve fully hung up on him, and frankly, you’re too consumed by your lover to care.
Grinning with pride, Joel pulls back, cock halfway out of your pussy and your hands grasp at his shoulders.
“Joel— f-fuck–please,” you beg, your resolve melting.
He clicks his tongue. “Na-uh, try again.”
“D-d-daddy–please,” you whine.
“D-d-daddy,” he mocks above you. “Say it, pretty girl.” He knows, but he wants to hear you say it.
“Harder. Please, daddy–I–I wanna come, please, I wanna come,” you mewl, voice all whiny and petulant.
He says nothing. Without pulling out of you, his long fingers wrap around to grip the backs of your knees, pinning your thighs to your chest, knees to your shoulders, feet dangling in the air beside his beautiful head, folding you in half. Then, he moves to plant his feet flat on the mattress, propping himself up, hands on your thighs to steady himself.
You’re already a mewling, writhing mess underneath him as he fucks in and out of your wasted cunt — it doesn’t take much longer for you to get there. The air fills with sounds of the headboard hammering against the wall and filthy, sloppy sounds of where you two are connected as he bashes into you with arrant primal vigor.
The new angle has him hitting a point inside you, deeper than you ever thought to exist. And still — the wave doesn’t break. With his eyes locked on yours, you know he can tell. He can always tell. He’s made you scream his name enough times since the beginning of your many clandestine meetings last summer to know when you’re teetering on the edge. In need of more.
And for a moment, you think you can see it in him. Hazel eyes practically glint against the pale moonlight that spills into his bedroom. Joel bares his teeth in a cocky grin, his hand releases one of your thighs to cup your face, thumb parting your plush lips when he says, give it to me, kiddo, soak your old man’s cock.
Oh fuck.
Your eyelids flutter shut, your head falling back onto the pillows, hands clutching and pulling at tufts of his grizzled curls. Lips closing around his thumb wedged in your mouth; licking, sucking, biting into his flesh, as the crest finally breaks and washes over you, taking you under the rogue waves.
But Joel still doesn’t let up. One more time, my ass.
He’s insatiable. And he shows you just how insatiable he is when his thumb slips from your spit-smeared lips and reaches between your bodies, the pads of his fingers expertly thrum at your sensitive clit.
Your face twinges up at the intense, almost painful pressure as he pinches your clit between his index and middle fingers, hard. The swing of his hips speeds up, cock relentlessly beating your sore cunt. The sight of his girth, disappearing and reappearing as he pounds your pussy at a punishing pace, and his fingers twisting your swollen clit has your belly pulling taut and snapping within the same beat. With a broken shout of his name, you gush around the root of his cock, dripping down his balls. It’s warm and sticky when it seeps down, past your tight ring of muscle, soaking his blue sheets and turning them the shade of charcoal gray.
Joel coaxes you through your seventh–eighth toe-curling orgasm of the night. An endless stream of sweet nothings spills from him — good girl, that’s it, kiddo. I know, I know, it’s so much, I know – fuck– such a good fuckin’ girl, as he fucks you through it.
Your sloppy cunt clenches around him, and with his cock choked tight, deep within your bruised walls, he follows soon after. Growls raggedly as he unravels, and his own orgasm rolls through him, decking the hall of your weeping cunt with warm, milky ropes of cum for the fourth time tonight.
Joel collapses onto your sticky chest, placing open-mouthed kisses to your dampened face — your cheek, your nose, your forehead, while he pumps you full of his seed, abiding by his promise. And when he’s done, his sweaty forehead drops to yours for a moment. The waves now a steady ripple through your body as you come down.
After a moment, he lifts his head, and in retaliation for giving you what was possibly the best fuck of your life while on the phone with your father and nearly exposing your tryst, you bring one of his hands to your face, hollow your cheeks, and suck his thumb while looking up at him with wide and falsely innocent eyes.
He licks his lips but manages to pry his post-coital eyes away. Instead, his cum-soaked cock slips out of your tired, leaking cunt. When he leans back, you swallow a moan, catching sight of the aftermath of your many arousals in his pubic hair. Graying curls swimming in a pool of your combined releases that drips down his thighs. A thin strand of your shared pearlescent spend shines in the soft moonlight, stretching from his balls to your folds, still connecting the two of you as he pulls away.
Joel misses it, something else pulls his attention. His gaze shifts to the clock beside your head. A hint of a smirk passes over his lips.
“You’re lucky it’s Christmas, darlin’,” voice low, dangerous.
Your head snaps in the same direction. It’s past midnight. You smirk in turn and pull the comforter up to hide it.
You feel him shift over you, elbow popping loudly as he reaches for what he’s looking for before he moves to sit up beside you, back against the headboard. His hand pulls the comforter back down from your face, and you roll over and sit up on your knees to face him.
His other palm opens, wordlessly presenting you with a single twig of some plant. One with moss green, teardrop–shaped leaves and plump, round berries, waxy and opaque in color.
Mistletoe.
You take the meat of your bottom lip between your teeth, stifling a laugh that threatens to bubble through you. Because of fucking course he would.
Though, the soft laugh is short-lived. His broad hand waves the mistletoe over him, but not where it should be. Your gaze follows the movement of his hand, and your mouth falls agape. Your eyes snap back up to Joel’s, and his wicked smirk broadens.
Joel Miller — naked as the day he was born and splayed on top of his messy sheets — dangles the mistletoe over his length, still hard as a rock and stirring in his other hand.
But it doesn’t stop there.
Beneath the mistletoe rests a lump of bright red and velvety felt; a fluffy white cuff rounds the brim, and a matching fuzzy white bobble hangs at the end of it.
A Santa hat perched jauntily on his cock.
You shut your mouth and swallow thickly, already feeling that familiar ache at the apex of your thighs, and you clench around emptiness, a stream of his seed dribbling out of your overstuffed cunt and further soiling his bedding.
“But it ain’t a Merry one till you give Santa's big sack a few kisses.”
#non i hope this was freaky enough#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fic#joel miller one shot#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfiction#dbf!joel#dbf!joel x reader#dbf!joel smut#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fic#tw daddy kink#noelle's workshop
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✘ WIP DIARY ── LAST NIGHT, I READ YOUR DIARY. (p.sh) ✘
Sunghoon has been trying be everything you need since your mother passed. A father, a friend, a therapist. You never really understood what your mother saw in him in the first place, if you’re being honest. He’s awkward, quiet, and typically used to keep to himself up until now. You’re impressed with his efforts by the time you’re entering into your senior year of college, though his entire demeanor towards you seems to have changed. or the one where your step-father grows obsessed with you minute by minute.
── step-dad /weirdo park sunghoon x afab reader
── minors dni
── tags: sunghoon is in his 30s, reader is in her 20s so, age gap, step-cest, heartbreak, obsession, manipulation, coercion, stockholm syndrome-ish, fluff if he manipulates you as a reader lmfao, angst, smut. don't read this if you are easily triggered. ── side characters: heeseung as reader's ex boyfriend, jay as reader's closest friend
── !WARNINGS!: this work contains non-con, dub-con, and stalking behavior. your mom isn’t alive in this fic. warnings will be updated as i write.
── a/n: this one is gonna be a wild ride, that's all i gotta say.
LAST UPDATED: 12.22.24
⨯ est wordcount: 20k+ ⨯ current wordcount: 5.4k ⨯ est release date: tbd ⨯ taglist: ask to be on my perma tag list!
playlist ⨯ recommended song: last night i read your diary - gürl She's got me down on my knees I beg, I beg, I, I beg, I beg, please! I want it more than I need And I need it like I need to breathe Like I'm losing my- Choke.
PREVIEW (3.1k):
no warnings apply to the preview, it's just the first couple of thousand words for this fic. aka, the intro and the set up for what will inevitably happen later:
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Your first heartbreak is meant to be painful, but this? This is more painful than you could have ever imagined.
Heeseung was one of your only constants in life. From childhood to high school it’s like he was there more than your own mother was, and certainly more than your own father. Even when she passed, Heeseung was the one who held you through it, he’s the one who made you smile again, he’s the one who made you feel like it was okay to heal and keep going.
It’s the fact that it was a mutual break up that hurts the most because deep down, you couldn’t see yourself without him. Yet, still, you willingly watched him hop on the plane with a short kiss and long goodbye. It felt so final to you. You could have handled a long distance relationship, truly. But Heeseung didn’t want that. He wanted to explore the world, he wanted to try new things, be with new people.
Do things without you clinging to him all the time.
In a way, you understand that. After all, you’re the only girl he had ever been with up until now. Senior year of college. You think you knew your relationship was coming to an end by the time he announced he was going to be studying abroad for his final year without ever once even telling you he was applying to do so.
So, yeah, it was mutual solely because you want him to be happy and he’s made it clear that he believes that can only happen without you. Such is life. Painful, painful fucking life.
Just last year when your mother passed, you nearly dropped out and Heeseung had been your rock to make it through class after class with a grade barely high enough to pass. You’re certain some of your professors took pity on you and raised your grade just enough to move forward. You’ll forever thank them for recognizing how hard you were trying. But now? Without your mother, without Heeseung, you’re at a loss.
And there’s a difference between loneliness and isolation, you think. Loneliness to you always hits hard during small spaces in your day, like when you’d get into Heeseung’s car and he would close your door for you. The silence always hurt your ears while he was still making his way around the car to the driver’s seat. A shallow loneliness that you could feel right at the top of your gut, like it was squeezing inside of you and making you lose your appetite. Solely because that silence reminded you of what you always had, a lack of loneliness because of him.
But then there’s isolation. Where it feels forced upon you by other people. Your mother fucking died, Heeseung fucking left, and now you’re just here expected to wake up like you always do, go to class, study hard, sleep well, when the reality of it is– you’re genuinely struggling just to look at yourself in the mirror.
Then there’s Sunghoon. The only person close enough to you now that you can reach out to. The issue with that is– you’ve never actually been close. And that’s what sucks. The fact that he of all people is all you have now? May as well just assume you have nobody.
His regular calls mean close to nothing to you in the grand scheme of things. Despite him calling twice a week every week since your mother died, your step-father is just as distanced from you as you are him. You’re aware that it’s his obligation, not because he cares. And that hurts, because it’s all you have now.
Now, you have to try and find meaning in those short calls. After all, Sunghoon fell apart when your mother passed all on his own and you had only called him out of obligation too. You were already in college and stressed, falling apart yourself with someone to love beside you helping you through it. Calling him when it all happened felt empty because you knew both of you were trying to hold it together and save face.
It wasn’t like this before she died. In fact, he never called and you never cared for him to. You’d see each other when you were home, share awkward pleasantries, and that’s it. It’s hard to believe that now you feel like you need a father, after all those years of practically rejecting him as one. He seemed fine with that after you hit your teen years. He knew by then that he could never be the father you want, but at least he could be the husband your mother needed.
You have grief in common now though. Loneliness. Isolation.
You try not to think about how you were okay up until now though. Having Heeseung to fall back on to soften the blow of your loss, you guess Sunghoon didn’t have that. Maybe his monotone voice and empty words were his way of coping, his way of hearing a voice that wasn’t the one in his own head when he calls you.
It’s just you and a man you never considered family past the titles and obligatory respects. Finding meaning in his short phone calls does nothing to help your growing isolation, but you cling to them now that Heeseung is gone. You wait for the calls, you ask him to check in with you every day now, to the point Sunghoon starts to notice the difference in you.
No longer rushing to get off the phone. Now, you’re dragging on meaningless conversations. Now, he hears cracks in your voice.
“You feeling okay?” Sunghoon asks you, in a way that makes you wonder how he’s able to tell that you’re definitely not. The way his own voice has a bit of life to it when he asks it…strange too. Like he’s concerned.
“No–” You trail off in your meek voice, staring at your ceiling and mind swirling with all of the work you need to get done for classes already. “I’ve only been in classes for a week and I already feel like I’m drowning.”
Sunghoon sighs into the speaker, contemplating how to further the conversation with you in a way that isn’t too intrusive. After all, who is he to pry? Still, he never intended for you to feel neglected or like you couldn’t come to him. After all, you were too happy about his lack of parenting you throughout his presence in your life.
He finds solace in the fact that you’ve been accepting him now, though he hasn’t the slightest idea as to why. He’s checked in with you since the passing, but lately it feels to him like something more is going on with you. He may be somewhat estranged, and he may have his own problems to deal with, but you’re still someone he needs to be here for.
Plus, it makes him feel needed again, which is nice considering the circumstances. After living in this bustling house with you and your mom for so long, to it just being him and your mom, to now just him…all that remains now is dread, dissociation, and unwashed dishes in the sink.
“Did something happen?” Sunghoon keeps his questions short, offering more silence if anything for you to use this call as a therapy session if you need.
You pause for a long moment, realizing that you want to talk about your issues so badly but don’t quite feel the need to share it with him of all people. You’ve already ranted day after day to Jay. To the point you’re sure he’s about one rant away from blocking your number.
Probably because you’re not that close to him either. Not these days, anyway.
You sigh instead.
“No…” You trail off. “I think I just miss being home. My dorm mate is never here, class work is already piling up, and I can’t even find the energy to look at the assignments.”
Sunghoon can tell you’re feeling much like he does and he can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders dealing with these feelings while also in college. But, you have Heeseung, do you not? You’ve been fine for the most part until now, and you haven’t even brought him up. Not once in the past few weeks has his name been uttered by you. Which is strange, after all, the two of you were practically attached at the hip growing up, to the point of choosing the same college, working the same jobs, and even keeping that middle-school puppy love in full swing throughout highschool and college.
If anything, after your mother passed, Sunghoon felt okay knowing you had Heeseung there with you to help you through it. It meant he could focus on himself and getting through the day-to-day. He could barely handle his own mournful thoughts, let alone the daughter’s feelings of the woman he loved so dearly. He was forever grateful for Heeseung during this time.
He has his suspicions now though, and his heart aches for the voice he hears from you these days.
“Why don’t you come home for a while?” He lends a pause to see if you’ll jump for the opportunity before selling the idea to you. “I have the bills here covered and your campus is only a forty minute drive. I’m sure that’s inconvenient but you won’t have bills to worry about on top of everything else.” He doesn’t want to sound too desperate, of course.
After all, the loneliness he’s feeling is also becoming unbearable. Even if the two of you never were able to see eye to eye, or to form a bond together, you’re all he has left of your mother. He, arguably, is nothing to you, but there’s no one else in this world he’d rather heal the loneliness with outside of you. Only because you knew your mother on a level deeper than he did, and to have someone to share those memories with, or even laugh with, would help him tremendously too.
“I think being at home may do you some good.”
You think it over in your head, wondering if being home will help you at all. In reality, you know it may make you feel more trapped than you do now. All those memories with your mother, with Heeseung, with all of your friends that have since moved to different colleges.
But…you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be with someone who knows how to give you space because he’s never even tried to shrink your existence to that of your bedroom and your bedroom alone. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent, food, or anything aside from studies, gas money, and trying to heal from your heartbreak.
Your dorm is small, you note as you look around the room and wonder how long it would take you to pack your things up. Two hours, give or take. The longest part would be taking all of the little decorations off the wall, if you’re being honest.
You find yourself nodding before answering, solidifying in your mind that– maybe you’re not the only one who needs company in your space. Not too close, but close enough to not be totally isolated.
“Okay.” You mutter into the phone, for some reason feeling the tears well up behind your eyes.
You’re just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all. Knowing you’re going home feels like a relief you didn’t know you needed.
“Yeah?” Sunghoon confirms. “Just let me know when and I’ll drive up there to help get your stuff back home.”
You agree, sighing into the phone with a shaking voice. Sunghoon takes note of it, always remembering and quite frankly missing how loud and obnoxious you used to be. Hearing you like this pains him. He wants to help. Now more than ever is his chance to be someone you need, and he hates knowing he feels happy about it.
Getting to be your father now? It feels awkward, but at least it’s a feeling other than loss.
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Sunghoon sighs at you through the speaker. “I know I’m not someone you like coming to but–well, I’d like for you to rely on me more, okay?”
You find a lot of comfort in those words, despite hearing him say them time and time again. This is the first time he’s ever shown that he means it through the offer of bringing you home, rather than just saying it and accepting whatever you say back to him at face value.
“I know…” You trail off. “I’m okay though, really.”
Sunghoon hates himself for never forcing you to accept him. Sure, there may have been some teenage defiance towards him, but eventually the two of you could have seen eye to eye. He could have been someone you needed. You could have relied on him too, rather than just Heeseung. That’s all he can really think right now.
“Are you sure there’s nothing else going on?” The man nearly pleads in his tone, desperate to have someone rely on him again. “I’ve never heard you sound so exhausted before, I can’t help but worry.”
You’d tell him, but honestly, what grown ass man wants to hear about a first heartbreak? It would just get awkward again, he’d just feel obligated to do something about it, and worse, he might end up feeling like he’s supposed to dislike Heeseung now.
You choose to remain silent in the final straw that broke your back this semester.
“Really, I’m just tired.” You nod to yourself as you hold your phone loosely against your ear. “I might not go to class tomorrow and just pack instead. I’ll just call you when I’m ready, is that okay?”
Sunghoon smiles to himself, wanting to mean something to you in a way that can hopefully help you out of this slump. Your mother would be throwing a fit if she heard how you’ve been sounding, he can’t help but take over that role and try to make damn sure you are okay.
“That’s fine,” Sunghoon confirms. “I’ll call and let them know what’s going on so don’t worry about any of that. Just get yourself ready to come back home.”
You find yourself smiling, relieved that you don’t have to be the one to contact your school and tell them that…well, you’re breaking your student-lease, dropping your food plan, and need to be reimbursed for partial tuition costs since Sunghoon insists every semester that you purchase tuition insurance. You should no longer be charged to live on campus, or for the facilities within the dorm.
Knowing you’ll at least get back a couple thousand dollars is a nice change of pace, and already you’re feeling weirdly excited to go back to a space that will likely make you miss your mother more. It’ll hurt, but at least you won’t be alone anymore.
The forty minute drive to campus feels less horrifying now, and maybe your friends will still come and hang out with you in your actual home rather than a tiny dorm.
“Sounds good.” You say, as if to end the call before you mutter out again. “Thank you, by the way. Sunghoon, really.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Sunghoon knew he was spiraling further and further into his loneliness. He knew it wasn’t healthy either, but now. Oh, now he realizes just how bad it’s gotten as he demonizes himself upon picking you up.
You haven’t come home since your mother’s funeral, and even on that day he barely remembers what you looked like. Eye contact was never a thing for him, but looking at you now, he sees how much you’ve matured since you went off to college.
Your once bright, excited eyes have turned dull and empty. The bags under them are heavy from lack of sleep. Your lips appear to be in a permanent state of pouting, though he isn’t sure if you’ve noticed. You appear to have lost weight, which is concerning for him of course, but…there’s something else about you.
Something that sits in the pit of his stomach and rots.
“Uh–” You cough, noting the way Sunghoon looks at you as you try to hand him a large box. “Thank you for helping me move my stuff back…”
Sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, grabbing a heavy box and then waiting for you to stack another on top.
“No big deal,” He mutters, feeling the weight in his hands double as he prepares to carefully carry your things out to his car. “You haven’t come home in over a year, but I’ve fixed up your room for you and went ahead and connected my gaming system in there.”
You nod quietly, feeling awkward for how fatherly he seems.
“Thanks…” You trail off, flopping a pile of your things into his trunk before stopping to look at him. “You look like shit.”
Sunghoon furrows his brows, noticing for a split second how that facial expression you made is very similar to one his wife used to throw at him when he’d have hair out of place, or a wardrobe malfunction. And then he smiles.
“You’re not looking too good yourself.” He jokes back.
You smile back at him, feeling a bit of the awkward air fizzle away.
“Well, I’m not doing well, so.”
You were continuing the joke, but his face falls before yours does.
“You can talk to me–” He starts.
“I know, I know.” You wave him off. “I’ll feel a lot better once we get back and I can settle in.
There’s a nod from him now, and then silence as the two of you continue to put the rest of your belongings into both his car and your own.
“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a bit?” You say now, awkwardly.
Sunghoon nods, looking you over once again.
“See you in a bit.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Shame.
Pure fucking shame.
Sunghoon knew he needed another presence in this house but upon seeing you again, he knew it may have been a mistake.
He likes to think of himself as level headed. He’s never gotten into any trouble, never had a stray thought, never cheated, lied, or stole anything. He can’t think of a single thing that he’s done in life to be considered taboo. But looking at you feels…incorrect?
Indecent?
You’re his step-daughter for fuck sake but it’s the fact that you don’t feel like you are. When he looks at you, he just sees another person. He did this to help you, he did this to feel needed, to be your fucking father.
He did not do this to look at you this way or to feel his eye stray even without his intention.
Why do you look so much like her? Why do you do that thing with your pinky when you carry things like she did? You even have a similar smell, probably having picked up on your mother’s habits throughout childhood.
You being here…It’s like she’s still here. Except it’s you, and he can’t be thinking this way.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
This fic will be dark, very taboo, morally bad. Not a grey area, it is blatantly bad. sunghoon will do bad things. Please be aware of your own triggers once it's completed and posted. remember that I write within my own triggers, not yours. That being said! Please do show lots of love if this is a fic you're interested in reading! If you want to be tagged, I have a permanent tag list, there are not any separate tag lists for individual fics so keep that in mind. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
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Hello! Can I ask for ekko with an reader who confessed to him thrice (and thrice rejected) and then he finally falls hard for them? With a happy ending, thank you!
(kind of like she fell first he fell harder trope)
Let Me Love You (Ekko x Reader)
Warnings: some cursing Genre: angst, hurt/comfort Word count: 2.3k Reader has no set pronouns!
The first time was the hardest of them all. You’d muster up the courage to confess your feelings for him, knowing very well that it could go south.
“I have something to tell you,” you uttered. He gave you a worried look, noticing that there was a hint of desperation in your voice. You were in his so-called office, working on something that didn’t really matter anymore.
“Is everything okay?” He simply asked.
“I’m not sure,” you began, “but I really need to say this.” He gave you his full attention, making you feel a bit intimidated by him and extremely self-conscious. “I’m in love with you,” you blurted out.
Silence quickly filled the room, and the tension could easily be cut by a knife. The moment you saw his face, you knew it: he didn’t feel the same way.
“I, uh, I don’t know what to say,” he mumbled more to himself than to you.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make things awkward at all. You can just forget I said anything.”
“I really don’t want to hurt you but I just don’t feel the same way.” You were trying to hold back your tears as his words left his mouth. “You’re an amazing person and anyone would be lucky to be with you, but that person isn’t me.”
You simply looked at him and slowly nodded. “It’s okay, you can’t force yourself to feel something you don’t.” It was hard to speak at this point. He knew you were hurt, but you’d never show it; it would just make things harder for the both of you. “Is this gonna change things between us?”
“I would hate that, honestly.” You nodded again, finally being on the same page about something. He came closer and put a reassuring hand on your shoulder to try and alleviate the tension. If only it were that easy.
•••
Some time passed and you still tried to hide your feelings for him. For a while, it worked, you’d suppressed them every time you spent time with the boy but deep down, you missed the way you were before. It had always been hard for you to open up to people, but you’d never been this miserable before. You were just a shadow of your usual self, and it was evident to everyone in the base.
Ekko himself tried to talk to you about it, clearly oblivious to the fact that he was the reason for your attitude. Finally, after a particularly hard day for you, you just lost it.
“You wanna know what’s wrong with me, Ekko? It’s you!” You truly didn’t mean to scream at him but you also couldn’t help it. Lately, you lived on edge, always frustrated about something; it was like you were a bomb simply waiting to explode. “I swear I tried to play dumb, to ignore everything but I just can’t.”
“Is this about-?”
“Yes, Ekko, of course it is.” You interrupted him. “I know you went on with your life and pretended I never said anything so we could go back to the way things were, but it’s not that easy for me. Nothing about this has been easy.”
“I didn’t know you felt that way.”
“Bullshit,” you spat. “You know exactly how I feel about you. We’ve known each other for years, you can’t tell me you never realized why I’ve been acting so strange.”
There was a pause between you. You were agitated, heart beating so fast that you could feel it in your throat. “I guess I wanted to pretend nothing ever happened,” he confessed after some time. “Acknowledging it made it real and I just- I just want my friend back, without any messiness and complications between us.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Ekko. I’m sorry my feelings are such an inconvenience to you. Trust me, I wish I could change them and forget about you for good but I just can’t.”
Something twitched inside of him when you said that and he looked at you with hurt eyes. “You really mean that? That you’d like to forget me?”
“I meant forgetting about my feelings for you, ‘cause you’re not making things easy for me,” you explained. “When you come over and put your arm around me or stand so close to me that I can feel you breathing it kills me, Ekko. And the worst part is that you know it.” You took a deep breath, anger slowly leaving you, feeling nothing but sadness. “Sometimes I feel like you enjoy testing me like that because you know that no matter what I’ll always come back to you. But I’m tired of this dance between us, it’s too much.”
“I just don’t know how to feel! This is hard for me too!” Neither of you cared if someone heard you at this point, you’d simply have to put up with the weird looks from everyone. “I don’t know what you want me to do and I’m confused.”
“Honestly,” you began, “I want you to give me some space.”
“Wait, I- uh, I don’t want that, please,” he took a step closer to you, trying to grab ahold of your hand but you avoided his touch, as you avoided his sad eyes.
“Do you have feelings for me, Ekko?”
“I said I’m confused.”
“It’s a simple question, do you?”
You finally looked at him and he realized that you were crying. He could count with one hand the number of times he’d seen you cry, and he never thought he’d be the reason why. “I don’t know,” he finally whispered.
“Then I don’t have anything else to say. I don’t want to wait for you to figure out how you feel and keep getting hurt in the process, I don’t think I deserve it.”
“Wait, please-.”
“Ekko,” you cut him, “I need some space, don’t make this even harder, please.” And with that, you left, leaving him even more confused than before, and with a pain in his chest he couldn’t really explain.
You should’ve known this was coming. Still, it hurt like the first time. You couldn’t blame him; if anything, you were glad he was honest with you. But after today, you realized that you needed to keep some distance from him, or this would end up destroying you for good.
•••
Days quickly turned into weeks, and you realized you hadn’t said a word to the Firelight’s leader in almost a month. Your heart still flipped inside whenever you inevitably ran into him or locked eyes with him within the first few days since the fight, and soon you started avoiding him all along.
In no time, the boy started feeling an emptiness inside him, something he couldn’t explain. He was truthful with you in that last conversation, he truly wasn’t sure how he felt, but with every passing day that you were nowhere to be seen, he realized that maybe he’d been a complete fool.
He missed you, there was no denying that. Now the question was if his feelings for you were simply platonic or if deep down he yearned for you, maybe even more than you for him. Ekko wasn’t the best with his emotions, not because he actively repressed them, but because all of this was extremely new to him, and he just felt so overwhelmed. However, there was one thing he was extremely sure of: he wanted you in his life.
It had been days since he last saw you, evident now that you’d been avoiding him for a while, so when he finally caught a glimpse of you around the base, it was like seeing an angel. Soon, his pleasant feelings were replaced by envy. You were talking with one of the new members from the Firelights, nothing out of the ordinary, but there was nothing he wanted more than to be the one you had your attention on. He didn’t recognize himself, filled with jealousy and bitterness.
The boy was pulled out of his thoughts when someone asked him a question, engaging in conversation with him, but that strange sensation still clung to him like glue. He hated himself and blamed his stupid ass for being such an idiot, these were merely the consequences of his own actions.
When he was lying in bed that night trying to fall asleep, you were the only thing on his mind. Your smile that shined like the stars, your lips that he so wanted to feel against his own while your arms wrapped around his body. He wanted to bang his head against the wall, he was such an idiot. If only he’d realized this before then maybe now you wouldn’t hate him. It all seemed so obvious to him now. You were there for him, by his side from the very beginning. He could always count on and lean on you, he trusted you even more than he trusted himself. Oftentimes he’d become mesmerized by how pretty you looked when you spent time together, the sun hitting your face in just the perfect way or your hair effortlessly framing your face in such a flawless way. Of course, he thought nothing of all this at the time, brushing it off as objective thinking. But now, it suddenly hit him, everything was different now because he wasn’t unsure anymore, he knew exactly how he felt about you. He loved you.
He sat on his bed, passing his hands through his face in an attempt to clear his mind. He wanted- no, needed to talk to you. Maybe you didn’t even feel the same way anymore, but he had to get it off his chest, he had to at least try. But right now, he also had to calm his nerves because if he didn’t, he’d go and knock on your door this very moment, and he was certain you didn’t wanna see him at all. So instead, he got up and went to take a walk, thinking it would be nice to sit by the tree to help him organize his thoughts. What he wasn’t expecting was seeing you there.
As soon as you saw his figure making its way to you, you got up, ready to leave but were interrupted by his voice. “Wait, please, don’t go.” You knew you should pay him no attention and leave anyway, but it had been so long since you’d last heard his voice that you were taken aback for a moment, standing in place. “Can we talk?” His voice was soft, nothing compared to what it was in your last conversation together; you could even hear a hint of desperation, which was what ultimately made you turn around and stay.
“What do you want, Ekko?” As soon as he heard you he let out a small smile, confirming that yours was the voice he wanted to hear every day when he woke up and every night before going to sleep.
He motioned for you to sit down again, doing the same right after you. “I’m sorry for everything,” he began saying, “I never meant for things to end up like this between us.” His chest accompanied his breathing, moving just a little too fast, earning him a concerned look from you. “I know that you probably hate me now, I know I would if I were you, and you’ll probably hate me even more after what I have to say since I acted like a complete idiot and took so long to figure out something that was right in front of me this whole time but I- uh, I do have feelings for you. Lots of feelings actually, I’m in love with you.”
You snapped your neck to look at him, trying to read his expression in search of a playful tone, but it wasn’t there. He was serious, he was finally saying what you wanted to hear for so long now. So long that you couldn’t fully believe him.
“Ekko, I don’t want any games, please.”
“I’m being serious. These weeks without you have been absolute torture, I can’t do this without you, I need you.” He rubbed his face, stopping at the bridge of his nose to pinch it. When he looked back at you, he had tears forming in his eyes, a sight you hadn’t seen in a very long time. “I’m being honest. I’m so sorry it took me so long to finally realize it. I made it my personal vow to always protect you and keep you safe and I’m the one that caused you pain and for that, I’m so sorry.”
You didn’t really know what to say, nothing seemed good enough. Your mind was racing and quickly you were lost in your thoughts and were brought back to reality by the sound of Ekko getting up, ready to leave. “These last weeks have been hell for me, too.” Your eyes met his and you stoop up, getting closer to him. “I don’t hate you, Ekko. I could never hate you.”
“But you don’t love me anymore?”
“I didn’t say that, I’m just a bit taken aback that’s all.” He got closer to you, trying to grab your hand and this time, you let him do it. He brought it to his face and planted a kiss on it, never breaking eye contact with you.
“I’m so in love with you that just thinking about spending a second away from you makes me suffer. I don’t want to feel that way anymore, I want to be with you, share my life with you, and love you every day.” One of his hands went to cup your face and you leaned against it. “Please let me love you.”
You looked at his lips and then back at his eyes, and in just a second the air was knocked out of your lungs when you felt his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet but desperate and filled with emotions. “Please let me love you, too,” you said when you separated.
“Nothing would make me happier.”
hey! i loved this request, i'm a sucker for angst :)
i changed it just a little bit but i still hope you like it anon, thanks for requesting! really enjoyed writing this one and i LOVE writing for ekko
#arcane#ekko x reader#arcane x reader#arcane x you#ekko x you#ekko fanfic#ekko arcane#ekko#arcane x y/n#arcane imagine#arcane fic#arcane fanfic#ekko fics
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HELLO! Do you have a summary of how you portray Leona's personality in your stories? I'm a big fan of your Leona and Yuu stories and I've read them multiple times www /gen I always feel like you just nail how he would act and say things and you inspire me to work on my own fics and get better at writing scenarios with him. Than you in advance ily🙏 🦉anon
How I Portray Leona in General and in Romance
HI ANON! So I've gotten this question a few times and someone in my discord asked me basically the same thing so I'll share with you what I wrote a few months ago about Leona and the general way I write him. (it's quite funny bc a lot of these things come up in Chapter 7 when we see his dream. I AM CURSED WITH APOLLOS'S GIFT OF PROPHECY WITH THIS MAN ISTG)
I hope this is helpful?? I would like to point out that the way I write Leona is fully based on my biases and life experiences. And that a big part of fandom is projecting what you wanna see in characters while still making them feel like the same character we know in canon, yk? Good luck with your fic writing! And thank you!! mwah mwah.💚 --
So Leona takes himself as a direct person, BUT he hides A LOT. He purposely misdirects people to get a reaction out of them. (Ex: pretending to be incompetent to anger someone) or he's playing with them. HE LOVES GAMES. Everyone is a chess piece, he has to feel in control bc that’s all he has ever had over everyone else; his wits. He’s a dickhead. He will say offensive shit to scare people off.
It’s a test to see who sticks around. He has no reservations when it comes to this. You take him as he is. And despite how some people write him he’s kinda silly? Like dad jokes. Why does he joke so much about eating people, who knows? (He says shit like Namby-pamby ffs) Why are you a 40y/o in a 20 y/o body?
I HC he purposely talks casually and gruff to distance himself from his upbringing. (I like to mix proper language and slang with him bc it feels right? Also lots of animal puns, and nicknames. HE'S CORNY AF)
In general, I don't think Leona is an entirely romantic person in canon, however in my timeline, I do HC that he, like Scar has this “want vs need problem” with connection to others. He thinks it's just praise he wants (or to be king) BUT he NEEDS TLC. What was Scar MOST jealous of at the end of the day?? Mufasa’s connections, a ✨queen✨, a family! BEING KING DID NOT MAKE SCAR HAPPY!! He needs to be needed and in Chapter 2 novella, he admits he HAS to numb himself to not care. I feel like this is something he constantly battles with. Yeah, he's lazy but it's partly bc he’s tired. He’s burnt out.
On the surface, he projects 100% nonchalance. He wants you to think everything he says is just "off the cuff", but it's not. He plans everything!!! He’s a mentor, big bro, caretaker. He is not the best at comforting words but he enjoys being a leader bc people appreciate him and look up to him. Something he never got at home.
Leona and ✨Romance✨
He fools himself into thinking he has the upper hand at first and keeps his distance keeping an eye on the object of his affection. Why would you catch his eye? Well, his greatest strength is picking up on OTHER STRENGTHS. Chessmaster. He is a mentorrrr and caretaker lowkey, he wants others to NEED him and rely on him. HE WANTS YOU TO NEED HIM.
At first, he would place himself in your path, trying to be helpful in a very tsundere type way. But he would still be causal and keep ruffling your feathers to gauge how you feel for him. He guards his heart pretty heavily. And more and more he is slowly collecting info about you he would find more ways for these meetings to happen until he realizes: "Oh shit, I’ve caught feelings." This one is the winner. He’s the king of nonchalance but also...he’s a very overly sensitive person. No doubt he’s freaking out a little, he doesn't wanna screw this up. But, he’d never show it.
I do think he wants to be challenged and given some pushback (insert manga panel about "something being harder to get and therefore is better"), He wants to WORK for it, to prove himself to you that you SHOULD choose him. He wants to impress you. It makes him feel alive. A person who keeps him on his toes.
And once this ”game” of cat and mouse starts to happen. He might start to let his guard down if you are shown you can be trusted with his VERY VERY delicate feelings, that you DO accept his flaws, treat him differently than all others, and see past his gruff demeanor. It is a test of sorts. He is testing that you can “handle” him. MORE GAMES.
He’d let you set the pace though. He won't be the first to give in. To kiss you or confess first. But he would fall first HARD. He’s not been given much one-on-one attention in his life so he would crave that time with you. Physical touch is a big one, but he would not be pushy. He'd tease your boundaries and become addicted to your time together.
But yeah, this push and pull goes on for a while, all the while he’s gauging how you react to this. Memorizing it all.
He’s def one of those texters who erases their sentence like 5 times when they are nervous bc he is cookin' up the RIGHT response to endear you. (Not in a sappy way of course more in a: “I know you miss me, mouse.” snarky sorta way.) Though he can be self-deprecating on bad days. He’ll act confident, though soften up behind closed doors.
I think once he realizes that you have picked up on his simpery and there's no going back...all bets are off. He doubles down, no longer ashamed of hiding it. (Assuming at this point the person has reciprocated these feelings too!) He wants to be yours and he’s not subtle. Someone to be by his side.
Then you get the REAL simp Leona, who lowkey mumbles the sappiest shit to you in his native language when he holds you, (bc he’s still embarrassed to be vulnerable, though this will fade over time) He’ll be your biggest supporter, and wants you around him as much as you can be.
This just keeps going until you're married. Congrats you now have a lion to take care of forever.🦁 Hope this helps!✨
#twst#leona kingscholar#leona x reader#leona kingsholar x reader#leona kingscholar x yuu#twisted wonderland#bunnwich writes📝#lion talk🦁#ask#anon
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How to liven a marriage.
Cregan Stark x wife!reader
SMUT SMUT SMUT SO MUCH SMUT
Summary: Cregan and the reader's marriage is dull, purely for duty. When the reader finds a book in the Winterfell library depicting just how pleasureful a man and wife's sex life can be, she takes it upon herself to introduce such a thing.
Warnings: p in v, fingering, making out, washing bruises (from a battle), riding, studying the scientific parts of a vagina, foreplay, etc
A/n: based on a reallllly good ask. I think this is my longest fic and I have no regrets. Except that I haven't proofread it yet. That's a later problem.
Masterlist
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She felt her stomach drop to her feet when she saw the drawings in the book. Her cheeks became a flushed red, completely embarrassed to have stumbled on something so… private. She shut the book with a thud and cringed at the loud sound that echoed in the library.
She heaved the book back onto the shelf and brushed off her skirt, as if trying to completely brush off the experience itself.
Once she had pulled herself together, she decided she'd had enough of the library. Enough scavenging and prodding at the books. Especially one like that.
Be even so, she felt herself stop halfway to the door.
She was a married woman. The act of sex itself is no crime to a married woman. Nor studying various positions of it.
It felt dirty to do so. Very wrong. Like her old Septa would appear and scold her ardently over it.
But her Septa wasn't there.
No one was there.
Just her and the book.
…
Cregan was sure to arrive within the fortnight.
She wished to be happy about all of it. The return of her husband was good. It had been a tough few weeks to rule without him. After all, she was still new to the North.
But she couldn't find it in her.
Cregan was harsh and cold. Never happy, never caring. Duty and honor. How the words were stamped across their foreheads.
They had married out of duty, and that is all they had of one another. They were awkward and lacked the eagerness to spend time with one another.
She had heard stories of great marriages of love that whisked away all problems and only left a man, a wife, and their love. That was not this marriage.
So the return of Cregan meant the return of a duty that she had started to dislike: Their attempts to conceive. She knew once she gave him a few sons, they would be rid of the need to conceive, but that day was far away.
And Cregan surely drew closer to Winterfell.
…
Perhaps the book- Forget about the book, she told herself. A proud man like him would never agree to look at such a thing.
Her fingers grazed over one of the drawings as she read the contents next to it. It was confusing to try and follow such a strange topic, but still she tried.
Women may experience intense pleasure of their own. It is most easy to start at the clitoris. It is located above the vaginal opening. A gentle circled rubbed at the area w
"What are you reading, my lady?"
She slammed the book shut with a thud and a gasp, her head snapping to the side to see Winterfell's maester standing with a curious expression. She held a hand over her chest. "Do not sneak up on a woman."
"Forgive me, my lady. I thought myself being rather loud in my steps." He gave her a chuckle. "It seems I was wrong."
Her shock was turning to embarrassment as she tried to slide the book further behind her back on the table that she leaned again. "You're forgiven, just go."
"Ah, I've come for a reason," he countered. "News of Lord Stark's return is at hand. He should be here by sunset tomorrow, gods willing."
She nodded, trying desperately to get him back out. "Right. How fortunate. Thank you. You may go."
"My lady, if I may," he continued. "You look rather flushed. Are you feeling ill?"
"NO!" She cringed at her outburst. "No, I'm quite well, thank you."
The maester gave her a strange look. He clearly didn't believe her, but he wasn't going to push it. "Right. If you need anything, only say the word." He dipped his head and hurried off, closing the door behind him.
Her entire body relaxed at his leaving. She ran a hand over her face in an attempt to physically remove the heat from her cheeks.
She had been so close to getting caught with this.
Too close.
When she was sure there weren't footsteps in the corridor, she turned back, opening the book once more and reading further.
It gave her an idea.
She grabbed the book, carrying it to Cregan's desk and setting the heavy thing down. Her fingers sprawled over the page once again, careful to not continue the tear that went down the side. She slowly sat down as she continued to read.
A gentle circled rubbed at the area will increase pleasure during the act of sex.
She looked over her shoulder to check one last time before her hands began to bring her skirt up. The fabric was quickly pooled around her stomach and her legs were exposed. Her right hand shook as it brushed the small piece of fabric still guarding her most intimate parts from the cold air.
But the most important part of a female's genitalia to understand is the vagina. Located between the clitoris and the anus lies the vagina. Though different in looks, all women's perform quite alike.
Her breath caught as she gained her last bit of bravery, and her fingers pushed the fabric to the side. The cold air made her hiss, as did the coldness to her fingertips.
The labia majora protects the vagina from foreign particles, the labia minor after that.
Her fingers explore the very area, the cold digits skimping past the skin until she knew her middle finger grazed the inside of her vagina.
She should have known the territory well. It was her own body and still she found herself unsure of where everything laid.
And above all else, she felt filthy for it. This was for her husband, not her own gain. Her own pleasure has nothing to do with making an heir. But she wouldn't stop now.
Her eyes grazed over the page again as she pushed her middle finger deep inside her. It caught once or twice, the lack of moisture causing a small discomfort. But once her second knuckle disappeared into her, she recalled the feeling.
She remembered this now: the feeling of something inside of her. Though, this was one finger and nowhere near as intruding as her husband's cock. And only then did she begin to understand how a man could fall apart from this feeling. Her walls seemed to not want her finger to part from her. She pumped it in and out a few times before daring to turn the page with her left hand.
…
Cregan returned as promised, with the sun beginning to set behind him- though it was covered with the thick clouds of the North.
Standing on the stairs to the castle was his wife. He had long awaited to return home. To continue his duties to her? No. But home meant warmth and small comforts and he would take that every day he could.
He dismounted his horse and took slow steps to her. He forced a small smile, more for the sake of everyone else than the two of them. "My lady."
She gave a polite nod of her head when he grew close. "You've returned safely."
"I have." His gaze wandered around the area in an attempt to ease the awkwardness.
"I… I've missed you," she muttered.
His eyes looked to her and his brows pulled together. "Have you?"
"Well…" She looked down at her shoes. Was that even true? She didn't miss him. Not really. Well, she did in a way. Waiting to talk about the book. "Well, I found myself wanting to be with you as soon as I could." She swallowed and looked up at him. "Would that be considered missing you?"
" 'Being with me,' " he repeated as he thought it over. He squinted in contemplation before trying to clarify. "As in speaking with me or… other things?"
Her face flushed and her eyes looked right back down to the ground.
He sighed and placed his hands on his hips. His tongue ran along his teeth before clicking as he came to a conclusion in his mind. "An hour. My chambers."
It was a soft command. He never ordered her around. And if she chose to voice an opinion ever, she knew he'd consider it. He was a forceful man, but not like that.
But when she made no motion against it, he chuckled. One of his hands came up to her chin and tilted her head up to meet his gaze. "An hour. I'll even wash for you first." He pressed an emotionless kiss to her lips and stepped away, grabbing his horse's reins and beginning to speak to one of the other men.
An hour. That felt like too long to sit with her thoughts. But she'd manage. Somehow.
…
An hour later, she opened the door with her heart beating wildly.
But upon seeing what laid inside, it died down.
Cregan laid in the large copper tub, his head laid back against the rim as he bathed: fast asleep.
She leaned on the door and studied him for a while. How easily the rough man became just as soft as anyone else. He seemed… at peace for once. That large crease that always laid between his brows was gone as he softly snored.
It's hard to make an heir like this. But he'd journeyed so far, and something like sex seemed dumb when he needed rest this badly.
She stepped in and closed the door behind her, careful not to make a heavy sound. Her steps were quiet and careful, quickly guiding her to him and now she kneeled at his side.
Her fingers dipped into the water. It was beginning to grow cold.
And judging by the light pruning of his fingers, he'd been there for a while.
Cregan often took his baths alone. He always refused the help of servants, even his wife, rather wishing to have this as his alone time.
She grabbed the cloth that lay over the side- unused, judging by its dryness, and dipped it in, beginning to lightly trail it over his chest.
She took the time to study every scar across him. There were many and she had no doubt that he'd won each battle they belonged to. She had seen him sparring- she knew how formidable she was with a sword in his hand.
The water ran down his chest and dripped into the tub again. The sounds echoed in his room. Each seemed loud compared to the utter silence of the air.
She moved to the other side of the tub and cleaned him, now noticing the deep cut on his shoulder. Deep purple and green bruising laid around it. It looked quite painful. When she ran the cloth over it, he hissed and his eyes finally opened.
He took in the room, a sharp gaze that would make most men fearful. Once they set on her and he completely came to, they softened slightly. She saw the way they flickered from her eyes to the cloth in her hand. She waited for him to inevitably shoo her from the room.
"Has it been an hour?" He quietly asked. "I apologize. How rude of me." He pulled the rag from her hand. "And I've made you feel as if you have to clean me to make up for time lost that I now owe you. Well, sit and I will hurriedly finish, wife."
His words and movements caught her off guard. She was unsure what to say.
"Go on," he motioned with a hand. "Sit and wait for me. Like you so patiently have."
"No," she finally countered. "Y- your shoulder. It looks painful. Let me."
Her hand grabbed for the rag, brushing his. The two seemingly froze in the moment. Cregan's deep eyes stared up at hers, as if taking her in for the first time. Finally, he shook his head. "It won't take long."
"I know. So, let me," she argued again.
He looked down to their hands, their fingers touching just barely. Slowly, his grip loosened and she was able to slip the cloth from him.
Silently, she took the acceptance and began to wash him again. She took extra care around the bruises now. When the cloth ran over them, the fingers of her other hand followed and paused. "Does it hurt?" She softly asked.
Cregan's eyes were glued to the water now, his fingers dipping in and out and watching the droplets fall back into the tub. "They always do."
"It didn't go well, I take it?"
He held water in his palm, cupped carefully as he studied it. "It went very well."
"This is very well?"
He tilted his hand and let the water escape down his arm with a sigh. His head tilted and he finally looked at her with a firm gaze. "The Wall is harsh. Even on its best days."
Having him stare at her so deeply made her chest flutter and she suddenly imagined how he might look at her while doing things from the book in the library.
She dared a thought, bringing a hand up to his cheek. He watched her carefully. To think that she did this of affection was a ridiculous one. He must have something on his face.
But when her palm rested there, on his cheek, he began to think differently. It brought a strange feeling to his stomach.
Her hand rested there for a while and the two were unmoving. But when she brushed her thumb over his cheekbone, he pulled his head away.
Her fingers pulled to her palm as she accepted the rejection and blinked away all thoughts. "Lean forward," she gently commanded.
He raised no fuss, pulling himself forward with a small groan. No doubt his muscles protested with each movement.
She focused now, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his back flexed and contracted each time he moved.
The cloth ran across his back and few times, and he eventually sighed at the feeling. Her hand somehow applied just enough pressure to his aching back. And when she noticed and focused just above his shoulder blades, he let out an audible groan.
"Tense, Lord Stark?" She almost teased.
He didn't catch the teasing part though, too relaxed in this state. He only nodded and prayed that she'd continue.
She abandoned the cloth and began to fully massage his shoulders with her hands. It put the powerful man in a relaxed trance, and not one he cared to come out of anytime soon.
"I've been thinking," she spoke. "Well, do you think that… " she hesitated. "That maybe… maybe there's more to conceiving a child than… what we've been doing?"
There was a silence. It was suffocating and she was sure that she'd said the wrong thing. She would have swore he hadn't heard her, but the sudden tension in his back said so.
Finally, his head turned just a bit, revealing half of his face to her and he barely looked over his shoulder. "I think," he drew out, "you've been reading."
Oh. So he knew of the book.
She pulled away, as if burned and began to wring her hands as her nerves took over. "It was there… and… And I only thought… maybe-"
He laid back again the tub again to look at her. "Is that something you want?" He calmly asked.
Her mouth went dry as she tried to speak an answer.
"Wife," he voiced a little sharper. "I asked you a question."
She forced herself to take a deep breath. "Yes."
The corner of his lips tugged up and leaned his head back against the rim as before, closing his eyes. "So be it."
"W-" she stopped herself before creating any problems she didn't need. He'd agreed, and that was that.
With her confused presence, he opened his eyes and lulled his head to the side. "I'll apologize again for taking our time." His hand came out of the water to her, mimicking the way she had cupped his cheek early. "But after the feast?" His thumb ran over her lips, catching and pulling down her bottom lip. "You are mine to have."
…
She remembered something in the book about this. Foreplay, she recalled. Like dangling a bone in front of a dog and seeing the way it would drool in anticipation.
Like quick glances, small touches, things that would signal to a partner that you wished to engage in sexual activities.
Doing such things during a feast felt scandalous. But it filled her heart with a fire that she knew was traveling between her legs as well.
She had started it, brushing her hand with his as they ate. Then wiped at a bit of wine that had dripped down his chin. Then even daring to brush a hand across this thigh.
But that was earlier. Now, across the room from each other, she took other tactics.
When she wasn't looking at whoever she spoke to, she looked at Cregan. Her eyes would wander from his face to his feet, a long gaze that took its time, and enjoyed every moment of it. And he was quick to notice it. When she was caught and his eyes were on her, she quickly looked away in mock embarrassment.
It worked wonderfully.
The rest of the evening, she felt his eyes on her and when she'd look back, he'd have a look that said he was ready to devore her whole. She felt her core almost drip with the adrenaline rushing through her.
Now, to act on it.
She caught his gaze again, keeping it and taking slow steps to the high table, hoping he'd get the hint to follow her.
And perceptive he was.
She stood in front of her chair and reached down to her cup when his chest warmed her back. His hand reached over hers and seized her chalice as his voice spoke lowly in her ear. "Bid them goodnight. We are retiring."
She craned her neck to try to look at him. "We are the hosts-"
"-two minutes, and I'll carry you myself if I must."
His warmth disappeared, and he set her cup back down to the table.
A wide grin came to her lips.
…
The moment the door to his chamber closed, he pushed her against the wall. His lips chased her with a heat like she was the air he needed to breathe. His hands pulled at the fabric on her shoulders, so eager to undress and ravish her.
Her hands did the same, pulling at the strings of her doublet. But it was hard to do so through Cregan's heavy hands tugging her this way and that.
Soon enough, cold air rose goosebumps across her skin. Cregan paused, only for a moment, letting his eyes wander over her. And for the first time, lust was evident in his pupils.
His lips consumed hers once more, his tongue delving past her teeth to hurriedly explore. His hands and hers both pulled at his clothes.
With his chest bare, he deemed that enough for now. He picked her up and took her to the bed, dropping them both to it and holding himself above her with one hand. His lips moved to her neck now, sucking at the skin. And her small hitch of breath encouraged him.
Soon he pulled away and stood at the foot of the bed, pulling down his trousers and throwing off his boots. His eyes never strayed from her body. How beautiful she was. Now he really noticed.
His hands found her ankles. He pulled her down to the edge of the bed.
She began to notice how he'd began to go back into their routine from before.
He stepped between her legs and propped her hips up a bit, lining his cock with her cunt and beginning to force his way in.
Her jaw clenched and her nose inhaled sharply. She was never used to that first push.
Her mind wandered to the night before with the book. She had went on to get three fingers in and without pain. She knew it was possible to avoid this if they went slowly. And the pleasure she had felt yesterday was inexplainable.
"Cr-Cregan," she panted out.
His eyes snapped up to hers. They never spoke during this. There was never anything to talk about.
"I want to… to do it differently," she managed out.
He pulled out from her, holding her legs steady as he gave her a questioning gaze. "What did you read in that thing?" He finally asked.
"I want… I want to be… above," she tried to explain. "You lay down and I… I will do the work."
He was hesitant, understandably so, but he was hard enough now that he didn't quite care how it happened. He just needed a release.
So he laid himself on the bed, his eyes almost bulging out with the way she straddled him so confidently.
She brushed against his manhood, and he couldn't take it anymore. His hands gripped her hips tightly as he tried to take back control. But her own hands pulled his away. She gave him a look that warned him to let her try it.
She sunk down onto him this time. The pressure was there, but it was different. More bearable this time. And at her own pace, she took her time to adjust to him until his pelvis met hers.
Cregan's eyes were closed in bliss, and she took that as a sign to continue. She pulled her hips up and sunk back down, and a whine left her mouth without realizing it. It felt… good. Sex with Cregan felt good.
His hands trailed back up to her hips, more gentle this time. He guided her hips in a back and forth motion and a sinful moan escaped from him.
She continued it as he wanted, leaning down to brace herself on his chest. With this new motion, she could find a little pressure to her clit, and it brought a whole new wave of pleasure.
The motions quickened as the two began to explore the idea that maybe… just maybe… they liked this.
If their moans had any indication.
She felt a tightening in her lower stomach, something she remembered from yesterday. She wondered if Cregan could feel it from inside.
And he could. It created a resistance that had him almost drooling with how well it felt. How good she made him feel.
"Let me fill you," he voiced in a beg. It hadn't intended to come out that way, but it did. Cregan was begging.
"I w~" the words caught in her throat. "I want you to fill me," she managed. "Give me a child, Cre~"
The words died altogether on her lips as her orgasm washed over her. The one from her fingers yesterday was nothing compared to this. She felt it throughout her body like spring that had finally snapped.
Cregan's eyes were open and wide at the feeling of her cunt around him now, spasming with the aftermath of her orgasm. It felt amazing, and he had cursed himself for never discovering it before.
And now that he had, he wouldn't forget it.
Her cunt milked him for all he had, and he happily gave it to her, releasing himself with a heavy groan.
The two slumped on the bed, Cregan's arms wrapped around his wife's frame. Neither were eager to move from their positions, not even as he softened inside of her or the liquid ran down her thighs.
Before, Cregan had held her up and made her keep it in.
Now? He didn't care. He could always just fill her again.
He'd do anything to see the way her jaw dropped and her eyes glazed over again.
"Thank you," she breathed against his neck.
There was a comfortable silence from him. Then finally, "I'll have that book read within the fortnight."
..........................................
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always wanted to post some australia photos so here they are before the year is coming to an end.
in order:
Mundi Mundi Lookout - Silverton, NSW
Hannans North Tourist Mine - Kalgoorlie-Boulder, WA
Tom's Opal Mine - Coober Pedy, SA
Karlkurla Bushland Park - Kalgoorlie-Boulder, WA
Kanku Breakaways - near Coober Pedy, SA
Rawnsley Bluff - Ikara-Flinders Ranges, SA
Echo Point - Blue Mountains, Katoomba, NSW
Head of Bight - Nullarbor Plain, Yalata, SA
Grand Canyon - Blue Mountains, Blackheath, NSW
also a little life update to anyone who's interested:
2024 has been a wild ride all around, and i feel a bit bad when i say that for me personally it had been a blast (except for today and this weekend: first my toilet flusher started being defect (ah yes, getting a mechanic the week before the holidays in germany, why would there be a problem), then a chunk of my phone screen stopped being touch sensitive, then half of my laptop's keyboard stopped working... and when i dared to ask what will break next... i landed a tremendous fall on my way to work today, with my bike and sudden glazed ice on the road, breaking my drawing elbow 👍).
BUT OTHER THAN THAT 2024 has been great in my books.
got laid off at work in march, which gave me the opportunity to do a roadtrip through australia, sth i would have never dreamed of doing on my own, of becoming true. this trip was life-changing y'all. it has altered my brain chemistry.
then i got back at work on part-time basis and holy shit, that was great. sadly i'm involved full-time again but this also made sth click in my head. and it gave me sth back that i've thought having lost last year: my will to draw. this sounds so overdramatic but some may remember my crisis in 2023 because i couldn't shake the thought of my drawing days being over due to work and life being so overwhelming? thank you so much again to each and everyone who left messages back then, it still means a lot, they really helped me to stay grounded during that time. but i'm also here to tell past-me "bitch! you thought you would never find fun and purpose in drawing again? think again!"
this also gave me the courage to apply for tabling again, something that i've long pushed away to the back of my mind bc i never felt confident enough. and what can i say, a friend of mine and me are gonna have a booth next year at leipzig bookfair <3
honourable mentions before it's getting too long: friends got the cutest new dog baby, iceland roadtrip with seeing polar lights for the first time, heidelberg zine fair with lots of crunch time beforehand but this also unlocked sth new in my brain, making zines is so much fun, lots of time again with friends and then... the last issue of the tf2 comic *bless.
thank you to everyone here who i met along the way, who interacts with my art and leaves incredible comments and tags, i love this site so much and its community, you all are wonderful people and i'm really happy that we all share this platform.
i'm wishing everyone who celebrates some nice holidays <333
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blue — fushiguro megumi.
As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence. It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter. It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you. It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.
GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;
WARNING/s: AFAB! Reader, Safe For Work (SFW), Long Distance Romance (LDR), Aged Up Characters (Megumi and Reader are 18!), Young Love, Innocent Romance, Established Relationship, Middle School Classmates to Lovers, Teasing, Teenagers, Feelings, Fluff, First Love, Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Flirting, Humor, Domesticity, Slice of Life, Light-Hearted, Confessions, Pining, Holding Hands;
WORD COUNT: 5.3k words.
NOTE: im a bit late, i'm sorry!!! i had a whole list of chores i helped my family with and i met up with some people yesterday, since i might not see them for christmas due to schedules. but i'm here. i always imagined megumi to be the sort of person who loves so wholeheartedly and so innocently. i wanted to capture that for his birthday. happy birthday, megumi!!! you will always be so loved by me <33333 i love you all too!!! thank you for reading!!! see you for yuuji's own fic on 24th <3 (asia time)
addendum: i just want you to know that the exact number of the words are 5302. chinese/cantonese numerology expresses that 53 means my life, 0 means good and 2 means joy and sometimes double joy. it reads as 'my life is good joy' and i think between them reader and megumi, that's genuinely true <333
masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
THE DARK BLUE SWIRLED AROUND THE SKY TENDERLY TONIGHT. Had there been more time, he would have enjoyed it more. But he knew there wasn’t. He had to get to you, immediately. He bit his lip softly against the cold winter wind.
Fushiguro Megumi tugged the bright tender scarf tighter around his neck as the frigid wind bit at his cheeks. He caught a faint whiff of the fabric, and something about the scent felt... off.
It’s a good scent, don’t get him wrong. But it wasn’t the familiar one he was used to. Had he bought a new perfume and just forgotten about it?
He sighed to himself. He was too busy lately, going off on missions. And now a lot of his life had become footnotes, even if he didn’t want them to be. Megumi knew he had to do better.
He had to do whatever he could to make a better pace for himself. Still, thinking about that right now is impossible. He had to brush the thought aside. There were more pressing things to focus on—like how late he was. Again.
Megumi could only hope that you weren’t waiting too long or that you had arrived late. But now he can’t help but think if you wore that thick Arc'teryx coat he’d gotten you. Or if you wore mittens or had enough hot packs on your body at this moment. Guilt started to echo into his head as easily as it was breathing. But he can’t help but feel that.
He took a moment to breathe, his breath visible in the cold air. He hated being late about absolutely anything. He likes punctuality, after all. But he especially likes it when it comes to you.
Because that meant he’d have more time with you. And more time with you means that he’d have you with him enough to sweep the thought of missing you for a little while.
But being a sorcerer, the job description didn’t care about holidays or plans. Or even the personal, the thoughts and moments that made one happy. It just never stops. Not even when he was supposed to take you out on a date on New Year’s Eve. Megumi absolutely reviled it. If he saw a curse, he had to deal with it, no matter the time.
And somehow, some sort of way, still, he knew you understood. You always did. You always reassured him of that no matter what. No matter how many times his responsibilities pulled him away from you, even just for five minutes.
You never stopped smiling when he finally showed up. You don’t stop having the warmest red on your cheeks when you see him. Your eyes always shone brighter than Sirius when you both stand beside one another.
Even though you weren’t a sorcerer yourself, you tried to understand his world, even the parts that didn’t make sense to you at all. It wasn’t fair to you, and he knew it. Yet, no matter how hard things got, you never gave up on him. You just didn’t want to, even when he had tried to keep you at bay.
That was one of the things he appreciated most about you. Megumi had never had quite a lot of joy in his life, but he was to be honest, you were one of them. You always will be. And even now, you stand by him, even if it’s hard.
You didn’t care for the hard stuff, you always said it was part of it. Because what mattered to you, was having him in your life. And he was certain he felt the same way about you.
Well, it’s obvious.
Why else would he start running in this cold winter weather?
If it’s you, the person he loved most, then he’ll find a way?
After all, he wanted to be with you for as long as possible.
He paused for a moment, staring at the message. The small emoji made something in his chest tighten, as much as it made his body feel the warmest it had ever been. Despite everything, you still cared enough to wait for him, to worry about him. A small, rare smile tugged at his lips.
The faint vibration of his phone snapped him out of his thoughts. He fished it out of his pocket, his cold fingers fumbling slightly as he unlocked it. A text from you lit up his screen:
“Megu, baby, where are you? 🥺”
Megumi stared at his phone after hitting send, watching the little delivered mark appear. Megumi has thought about how many times he’d sent similar texts, always apologizing to you, for more often than he hoped, about being late.
He typed back quickly, his fingers stiff from the cold.
"On my way, babe. Sorry for being late."
Yet, you never seemed to hold it against him. He wished you had. Most romantic partners would be so fed up with such a position.
Hell, most of them would have already left their partners. But not you. You never had thought of it, not even during middle school, when Gojo started to take him on his missions to observe. You were steadfast, because you saw his efforts. You saw how much he loved you.
And that was enough. He never had to doubt that you loved him. And perhaps, that’s why he kept running. He wanted to get to you, as soon as possible. He wanted to see you. He wanted to hold you in his arms. He wanted to love you.
As he slipped his phone back into his pocket, Fushiguro Megumi picked up his pace. He had to. He had to arrive as soon as possible. For once, he hoped the world could hold its chaos at bay. Just for tonight. He owed you that much. He owed you all of the world. And he had to make it possible, even if just for a little while.
His phone buzzed again almost immediately.
“Okay, but you better hurry, baby! It’s cold! Also… why does your scarf smell like my perfume? 🤔”
Megumi stopped in his tracks, his brain processing your words at a glacial pace. Your perfume? His hand instinctively went to the scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. That was the weird smell he’d noticed earlier—the soft, floral notes he’d never associated with his usual scarf. His mind raced. If this was your perfume, then this wasn’t his scarf.
It’s your scarf. The realization hit him like a curse to the chest. Now, his heart was thumping hard on his chest. You must’ve grabbed his scarf by mistake in a rush the last time you visited him and you forgot about it.
And now that left him with your scarf. And he hadn’t noticed at all. His face heated to warm scarlet instantly, the cold air doing nothing to cool it. Ah, this is…..
His grip on the phone tightened as he read your words. Cute. It was hard enough to deal with how much warmth you give him with your scarf, but the thought of you being so tender with him, loving to the point that he can’t take it.
Before he could come up with a reply, another message came through:
“Wait, Megu!… Are you wearing my scarf? 🥺 That’s so cute! Wah!”
He doesn’t know what to do. Everything about his love for you just grows deeper and he can’t help it. His face burned hotter, and he was suddenly hyper-aware of the soft fabric around his neck.
He hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard, before typing back:
"I didn’t realize until now. I must’ve grabbed it by accident. Sorry."
Fushiguro Megumi felt like the temperature had risen ten degrees despite the snow swirling around him. He tried to clear his throat, trying to wick away the scarlet blush spreading across his cheeks. But it was no use. He was never going to win against you. Never.
Your reply came almost instantly, as though you’d been waiting for it.
“Don’t apologize! I think it’s adorable. It’s like you’re carrying a little piece of me with you 🥰.”
"It’s not a big deal." he typed, trying to sound indifferent, but his fingers betrayed him as he hesitated before adding: "It does smell nice, though."
His phone buzzed almost immediately. “You’re so sweet, Megu! You better hurry so I can see you all bundled up in my scarf. I want to take a picture and enjoy the cuteness of my baby!🫶 ”
Fushiguro Megumi let out a soft groan, burying his face in the scarf—your scarf. He takes in the soft smell of your scent, while feeling your words take over him. He could feel the heat radiating from his face as he resumed walking, this time a bit faster.
He can’t run in this case, not when he’s overwhelmed by this, by you. You’ve ruined him for any other romance. This was it for him. You were it for him. And yet still, he couldn’t believe he was blushing over a scarf. Over you.
But that’s how it is. It didn’t need explanation, it didn’t need logic. That’s how it is to love you. And he wouldn’t have it any other way. Not ever. But still, as much as possible, he still wanted to play it cool.
There was a wonderfully warm feeling in his chest that he couldn’t ignore, not when it’s caused by you. Even if it was accidental, wearing your scarf made him feel closer to you, like he was carrying a part of you with him.
"I’ll be there soon, babe." he texted back simply, though his heart was racing as he hit send.
“I look forward to it! 🫶”
“I'll see you soon.”
“Love you, Megu~”
".....love you too."
══════════════════
IT WASN’T THAT LONG NOW WHEN HE MADE THE SHARP TURN TO AND ARRIVED. The faint glow of the shrine came into view, and quite expectedly, Fushiguro Megumi’s pace quickened even more now despite the biting cold.
His own breath puffed in little warm clouds as he rounded the last corner, and there you were, just like always, waiting for him by the warm illumination of the bright red shrine gates.
You seemed to be humming to yourself as you waited for him, all bundled up in the white winter coat he gave you and those bright purple gloves trimmed with faux fur you so dearly loved. You hadn’t noticed him yet when he stopped.
But when you did, your eyes widened almost so excitedly. There was a slightly excited bounce in your step as you waved at him enthusiastically, your beautiful face lighting up like the warm spring flowers blossoming when you started to register his presence. Megumi could feel his chest tightened at the sight.
The stress of trying to get here on time, the hardship of not meeting, the times he missed you — every bit of that started to fade away into nothing. He was here with you. You were here. And nothing can take that away from him, from the two of you. Because he knew it too well. He was home.
“Megu!” you called out, your tender voice cutting through the quiet winter air.
He slowed as he approached, his usual calm demeanor taking over, but the pink sunrise on his cheeks hadn’t faded. Megumi tried to casually stuff his rather cold hands into his coat’s pockets, pretending the cold was the only reason his face felt warm.
“You’re late, Megu!” you teased, though your tone was playful, and that familiar smile spread across your face.
“Sorry.” he said quietly, stopping just a few feet away. “There was a—”
“A curse?” you finished for him, watching him blink. You grinned. “I figured. You always come anyway.”
He nodded, his gaze flickering to the shrine gates. “I told you to wait here for a reason. It’s safer.”
“I know, I know.” you said, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “I always know that I’m always safe, thanks to you. But I’m also freezing, so I hope you don’t plan to keep me standing here much longer! Let’s eat dinner!”
Your grin widened as your bright doe eyes flicked to the scarf around his neck. “Especially since it looks like you’re nice and warm in my scarf.”
Megumi’s hand immediately went to the fabric, his ears turning red. “I told you, it was an accident.” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.
“And I told you, it’s cute.” you said, stepping closer.
“You’re wearing my scarf too.” He mutters under the cold winter air.
You looked down slightly, your cheeks flushing red as you smiled. “Hm! And I love it! It suits me, having a part of you with me always when I’m cold, don’t you think?”
Megumi was taken aback by what you said for a moment. His cheeks turned even redder, even though he wasn’t sure how it was possible. He hums softly, lowering his gaze shyly. “.....It does.”
The soft crunch of snow under your boots was the only sound as you closed the distance between you. You smiled at him as you stopped in front of him. You reached up, on tip toes and gently adjusted your scarf around his neck, your fingers brushing against his skin for just a moment.
“It suits you, don’t you think?” Your soft voice blossomed against the wind. Your gaze met his, as he raised his face. “Being so loved by me in winter cold too.”
He froze, his heart skipping a beat at the gesture. “You’re—you really are…..” he mumbled, though his voice was quieter, almost fond. “How can you say that so easily?”
“And you’re blushing, lover boy!” you teased, stepping back with a playful laugh. “You also said something like that too!”
“Am not.” he replied quickly, though the redness in his cheeks betrayed him.
“Whatever you say, my precious Megu~”
You reached out and took his hand, your gloved fingers curling around his as you tugged him toward the shrine gates. You wanted to keep his hand warm from the cold too. He forgot his gloves, after all. And he knew that, his gaze turning to your tender touch on his, even though the leather.
“Come on, let’s get going before we both turn into icicles.”
For a moment, Fushiguro Megumi hesitated, looking down at your hand wrapped tightly on his own. Years together still hasn’t stopped him from being so awestruck by your touch on his.
To hold someone’s hand, it made him feel like he understood what love was like. Ever since that day he met you. You made him understand, with just a touch of your hand. And still, he continues to learn love, because of you.
Megumi shook his head then he let out a soft sigh, his lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile as he followed you.Even if he’d never admit it aloud, your warmth, your wonder, your very existence, it made him whole.
And if this was a dream, he wishes he never wakes up. Because nothing of him would exist without you. He refuses to do so.
“Hm, let’s go.”
As you walked hand in hand through the snow, Fushiguro Megumi felt like your warmth and his blended together, refusing to part as you made your way away from the shrine. The thought of that made him feel like the winter was nothing, the biting chill rendered powerless against the steady heat of your presence.
It was the kind of moment that made the world feel smaller and quieter.
It was as if the universe had decided to go on a pause just for the two of you.
It was as if these two hands were meant to fit because destiny said so.
This, he thought, was more than enough to ground you both in the stillness of the winter night. The two of you ceased to talk for a while, your breaths forming soft clouds in the frosty air.
Neither of you felt the need to fill the silence. The quiet companionship you shared was enough, an unspoken understanding that words could never quite capture.
It was always like this with you. There was a gentle kind of closeness that didn’t demand anything more than your presence. It wasn’t loud or extravagant, but it was steady.
That was more than enough for him, to keep him grounded in a way nothing else could. Megumi didn’t have to explain himself, didn’t have to rush to fill the gaps, because you already understood. It was just like that between the two of you.
He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, noting the way the soft glow of the blue moonlight reflected off your hair and the peaceful expression on your face. A rare warmth bloomed in his chest, spreading slowly but surely, chasing away whatever lingering shadows had tried to follow him here.
Megumi’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, his way of acknowledging what he couldn’t yet say aloud. This, he thought, was the kind of peace he didn’t know he needed. And for tonight, that was more than enough.
When you both arrived at the train station, the warmth of the moment lingered despite the cold metal benches and the faint whistle of the wind echoing through the platform. The faint hum of distant activity surrounded you, but it all felt muted, like the world had softened its edges just for the two of you.
You both sat down to wait for the train, your hands finally parting as you settled beside each other. Fushiguro Megumi shifted slightly, resting his elbows on his knees and looking out at the empty tracks.
The silence between you was comfortable, but you broke it, your voice cutting through the cold like the first hint of sunlight after a long night.
You looked up at him with a soft smile. “Happy birthday, Megu.”
He froze for a moment, blinking as if he hadn’t quite heard you. Slowly, he turned his head to meet your gaze, his brows furrowing slightly. “What?”
You giggled, the sound warm and light as you looked at his astonished face. “Happy birthday, I said.” you repeated, your smile widening.
His expression softened as realization washed over him. He let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He shook his head, as you looked at his most adorable expressions, reserved only for you.
“I forgot, babe.” he admitted quietly, glancing away.
“I know, baby.” you said, your tone teasing but gentle. “You always forget. That’s why I’m here to remind you.”
He didn’t respond right away, his eyes fixed on the tracks ahead. But the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips, barely there but unmistakable. He turns his blue–green eyes to you, as though you were the most wondrous thing he’d ever set his blue–green eyes on.
“Thanks, babe.” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You reached into your pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped package. You always were better at wrapping presents. You had the best hands in the world, warmest to touch and the most delicate with care. And perhaps that is what made him freeze for a moment.
“And because I know you’d never ask for anything, I got you this.”
He looked at the gift, his eyes widening slightly. “You didn’t have to—”
“But I wanted to, baby.” you interrupted, holding it out to him. “It’s your birthday, Megu. You deserve to feel special, even if it’s just a little.”
He hesitated before taking the gift from your hands, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment. He stared at it for a few seconds, his expression unreadable, before carefully peeling back the wrapping paper.
Inside was a small, leather keychain engraved with his initials on it. Attached to it was a simple charm shaped like a wolf, a perfect reflection of his shikigami. Megumi stared at it for a moment, his fingers brushing over the smooth leather and the delicate charm. It was clear you’d put thought into this, making sure every detail would suit him.
Everything about it was just to his liking. You always knew it better than him sometimes too. Its design is sleek and understated, free from unnecessary embellishments, yet carrying so much meaning.
It was practical, simple, and deeply personal, just like him. And yet, the simplicity is what made it even more special, just like he knew he was to you.
“You… put a lot of thought into this, babe.” he said softly, his voice tinged with something unspoken, something he wasn’t entirely sure how to express.
You smiled, a faint flush rising to your cheeks. “Of course I did. I wanted it to be something you’d actually use. And… well…. I thought the wolf was a nice touch.”
“It is.” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the charm.
His shikigami were a part of him, a symbol of his strength and the weight he carried in his cursed technique. But they were something he loved too. Especially his wolves. And now, here it was, captured in this small but significant token by you. Now it meant even more. Because you gave it to him. Now, it was something he could keep with him no matter where he went.
“Do you like it?” you asked, almost shyly.
Megumi looked up at you, and though his expression remained its usual calm, there was a softness in his gaze that made your heart flutter. “I do, babe.” he said simply, but the quiet sincerity in your boyfriend’s voice spoke volumes. “Thank you.”
“I thought it could keep you company, when you’re away.” you said softly, watching him closely. “You’re always busy helping people and running around. You keep doing so much for everyone else. I wanted to give you something you could keep with you, something to remind you…”
He glanced up at you, his blue–green eyes meeting yours. “Remind me of what?”
“That you’re never really alone.” you said simply, your voice filled with quiet sincerity. “That I’m always there for you, Megu.”
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, his fingers tightening slightly around the keychain. Then, almost imperceptibly, he nodded. And for a moment, those rare smiles, the smiles he could only show you. You, his most precious person. That smile had trailed on his lips for a moment.
“Thank you, babe.” he said, his voice steady but laced with something deeper—gratitude, maybe, or something even more profound that he didn’t quite know how to put into words. “I’ll treasure this well, I promise.”
You smiled, leaning back against the bench as the distant sound of the approaching train reached your ears. “Happy birthday, Megu.” you said again, your tone warm and light, your words laced with genuine affection. And then, as naturally as breathing, you added, “I love you.”
The words were simple but carried a weight that made Fushiguro Megumi’s heart stutter. He froze for a moment, wide-eyed, his usual composure shattered like glass under the heat of your confession. He’d always heard you say it over and over again. And yet…..it always made him feel like he was going to drown in your wonders.
He couldn’t help but feel himself combust with your words, the warmth spreading from his chest to his ears, and then outward until he was sure he’d melt into this cold blue winter night. Before he could even begin to stammer out a response, you squeezed his hand, your smile never fading.
“Our train’s here! We gotta go!”
Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he blinked, glancing at the train now pulling into the station. You tugged him forward, your fingers laced with his, as if the moment hadn’t just turned his world upside down.
Megumi let out a soft sigh, a mix of exasperation and fondness, as he let you guide him toward the train. His blue–green eyes drifted to the keychain in his hand, its wolf charm catching the dim station light, and then to the scarf around his neck.
The warmth of your scarf, still carrying your faint, comforting scent. For someone who often felt like the weight of the world rested squarely on his shoulders, tonight felt light. For tonight, everything just felt like a gift. The greatest gift in the world.
The train doors slid open with a gentle hiss, and you both stepped inside, settling into a pair of seats by the window. As the train began to move, Megumi finally found the courage to speak, his voice quieter than usual.
“You’re ridiculous, you know?” he muttered, though there was no bite in his tone.
You tilted your head, looking at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
His cheeks flushed again, and he turned his gaze to the window, watching the snow-covered scenery blur past. “You can’t just… say things like that so casually and just….watch me combust.”
“Oh, you mean when I said I love you?” you replied with a grin, clearly enjoying his reaction.
Megumi groaned, pressing a hand to his temple. “Yes. That.”
You laughed softly, leaning your head on his shoulder. “But it’s true, Megu!” you said, your voice softer now. “I do love you, truly! And I don’t see why I shouldn’t tell you over and over again.”
He was silent for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest as your words settled over him like the softest blanket. Finally, he glanced down at you, his blue–green gaze steady despite the pink still dusting his cheeks.
“…I know.” he said quietly, his voice barely audible.
And though he didn’t say it back to you, overwhelmed by the wonders of those words on his soul, you knew that look in his eyes. That look of love, that wonder in the blue–green that said those words without leaving his lips.
It was all in his eyes that said everything you needed to hear. He struggles. But he hopes one day, he could say it to you without the struggle.
You smiled to yourself, your gloves gone. You let your warm fingers still intertwine with his as the train rocked gently beneath you. He squeezed it even more and that had made you smile even more as you looked at him.
You hummed and leaned your head against his shoulder. His breath hitches before a moment later, his head resting on your own. You giggled at that.
Tonight was perfect, you thought. Just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, as the world outside continued its quiet, snowy journey. And all you could see was the tenderness of all those shades of blue. That’s what it felt like when you were with him.
Everything was worth it. The cold was worth it. And so was the parting and the waiting. As long as you get to be with him and have this feeling of blue. As long as you could see those blues in his eyes.
Everything was worth it. Everything was worth experiencing. And you knew from the depths of his heart that he felt the same way too. Blue was the wonder of being with you. And he loves it too.
══════════════════
epilogue
Later that night when you reached your house, the warmth of the entryway light spilling into the snowy night, you turned to Megumi with a thoughtful smile. He noticed the way your bright eyes sparkled.
It was a sign you were about to say something that might throw him off. He was familiar with that look since you were in middle school. But every time, he finds himself learning the depths of that mischief in your eyes.
“So…” you began, glancing up at him with a hint of mischief. “Do you want to stay over tonight?”
Fushiguro Megumi nearly tripped over his own feet. His handsome face turned a shade of red that rivaled the setting sun, and he froze in place, his free hand holding your bag for you. You can see easily that he was clutching it nervously.
“W-What?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “Why—what—why would you even—?”
You couldn’t help but giggle, watching him flounder. “It’s late, Megu!” you said, your tone as calm and reasonable as ever. “The buses aren’t running anymore, and so are the trains, you know! I’d feel bad making you walk all the way back to the dorms in this cold.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but you held up a hand, cutting him off before he could get a word in. You already knew that you had a card up your sleeve. You grinned at him and giggled, taking out your phone from your coat pocket and showing it to him.
“And before you say anything about it being improper or whatever.” you added with a knowing grin, “I already asked Gojo–san if it was okay.”
Megumi’s face somehow turned even redder, and his hand shot to his temple like he was trying to ward off a headache. He looked at your phone for a moment.“You asked Gojo?”
You nodded, looking far too pleased with yourself. “Yup! He said, and I quote, ‘As long as you don’t let Megumi brood in a corner all night, I’m fine with it! Take care of my precious son, daughter in law!’”
Fushiguro Megumi groaned, running a hand down his face. What did Gojo mean precious son? And what did Gojo mean about daughter in law? That was just….
Megumi didn’t know what to do anymore. He can’t even believe Gojo gave his number to you. He couldn’t help but feel his face echo a look of a son embarrassed by his overbearing father.
“Why would you even tell him that? Now he’s never going to let me live this down.”
You laughed, tugging gently on his hand to lead him inside. “Oh, come on. He didn’t care at all. Besides I had to, he’s your guardian! He said he’d rather you stayed somewhere warm and safe than out in the cold. Besides, it’s not like we haven’t hung out late before. We’d have sleep overs before too.”
“That’s different.” he muttered, still flustered as you closed the door behind him.
“How is it different?” you teased, tilting your head at him.
He hesitated, glancing at you and then away, his ears burning. “It just… is. I just…..”
You rolled your bright doe eyes playfully and reached up to unwrap your scarf—now his own scarf—from around his neck. “Relax, Megu. It’s not a big deal. You can have the couch if it makes you feel better. Or the guest room. I don’t think my mom will mind when she comes back! She loves you too!”
He sighed, letting you take the scarf off but avoiding your gaze. “Fine, fine.” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I’ll….I’ll sleep here tonight.”
You grinned, your victory clear. “Come on, I think I still have some of your old clothes I took from you. I’m sure they still fit you.”
“You never returned that hoodie I used to like.”
You raised a teasing brow at him. “Do you want it back?”
“No.” He says back to you, and looks at his own scarf on your neck too. “You can keep the scarf too.”
“Good. Now come on, I’ll make some hot chocolate. Consider it a bonus birthday gift.”
As you walked toward the kitchen, Fushiguro Megumi stood there for a moment as he watched you start humming, looking for the cocoa. He let out a quiet sigh, the corner of his mouth twitching upward despite himself.
He was definitely going to hear about this from Gojo Satoru later, but for now, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was with you. And that was more than enough for him to not care about the world outside.
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Romance Indicators in Lunar Return Chart
All pictures were found on Pinterest
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જ⁀➴ Romance Indicators in Solar Return
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ఇ. Jupiter 7H can often mean being in a relationship. It can often appear the month you'll start something new with a partner. Of course this isn't the main indicator and don't forget there are others placements that counts.
ఇ. North Node 7H can often mean you'll meet a very important person in your love life, perhaps a soulmate, but usually it can mean you'll meet a destined person. If not, you can also have a fated event happening in your love life.
ఇ. Uranus conjunct North Node 7H can mean you'll meet a destined partner this month and totally not expect it! A very big surprise, you'll def not see that coming.
ఇ. Jupiter 7H can also mean something in your love life will make you happy this month.
ఇ. Jupiter conjunct Neptune 7H could mean something good in your love life can happen but you may not see it this way, or you could have difficulties to see the good things happening.
ఇ. Venus 3H could mean you could have a love declaration this month, or you could talk to a crush, a lover, etc. It can be texting and calling too.
ఇ. The month my FS wrote me a poem I had Venus conjunct Mercury 3H.
ఇ. Jupiter conjunct Briede/ Groom could be a sign of meeting your FS, you could also felt like you found the one for you.
ఇ. Chiron conjunct Moon 7H could mean you could get your feelings hurts this month by a loved one, or someone you have romantic feelings for.
��. Venus 12H could mean you feel sad about your love life.
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ఇ. Venus conjunct Mercury 12H could mean you could not talk to a person you love or stop talking to them. You can also be sad about it.
ఇ. Sun 7H could mean you'll be very focused on your love life this month, you'll also think often of romance, or someone you love.
ఇ. If Jupiter and Chiron are both in 7H, this could mean you could have to live a situation this month where you'll have to take a decision in your love life that is not easy but you'll think it's for the best.
ఇ. 7H Ruler in 9H (+ more if the ruler is Saturn) could mean there could be distance (physically) between you and the person you love.
ఇ. If the ruler is Mars for 7H ruler in 9H, this could mean you could want to reduce the distance between you and your romantic partner/ crush etc.
ఇ. Venus 7H could mean you'll feel very in love with your romantic interest/ FS/ crush.
ఇ. Venus 7H with 7H Ruler in 3H could mean you could express your feelings towards a romantic partner, but it can also mean you'll received a romantic declaration.
ఇ. If you have the previous indicator + 7H Ruler is Moon and conjunct Chiron you could feel a lot of romantic feelings yet you could not express your feelings the right way, and perhaps hurt romantic partners with your words.
ఇ. Saturn 7H + 7H Ruler is Uranus could mean you could have difficulties or obstacles in your love life, and the reason could be a sudden impediment.
ఇ. With the previous case, if 7H Ruler is in 10H, it means the sudden impediment could be related to work.
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Hi there, friend!! Oh don't worry, I'm just so glad you've gotten the time to dive into this story, especially since I'm working on a sequel! 🥰💕💕
I loved Spirit as a kid and you brought an elegant literary version of it to life that absolutely brought out the inner kid in me. I love the nods the to movie, especially the scene where Dean and the others are trying to break Spirit and the subsequent escape scene.
Oh yay!! I'm always happy to see another Spirit fan. 😊 And thank you so much for that compliment. I tried my best to capture the "spirit" of certain moments, while trying to making it my own for this story. That "breaking Mato/Spirit" scene was the biggest film rip part, but I just had to include it. 💜
As you said in your authors Note, it's clear you put in a lot of research and care into representing the Lakota tribe which is very admirable.
Thank you so much for saying that. I really do care about representation and authenticity, especially since I was writing about a culture that wasn't my own, though in a historical time period that fascinates me. Rewatching Spirit actually made me want to deep dive into that part of American history.
As always, your AU's are wonderful; your AU's are the only ones I read, especially the AU's that deviate from the Canon and/or a completely different universe. You have a way of keeping the fundamentals of the characters and the feel of the show that they are a part of within the AU instead of being completely different.
Wow, thank you, hun!! 🥹🥹 What an amazing compliment! I haven't written many AUs, but I do my best to make the canon characters feel like themselves, even though it's an AU world. 💓💓
I'm so happy you loved Part 1 so far!! I'm so excited for you to read the rest of this journey into the Wild West. 🥰
The Honorable Choice - Part 1
Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC
Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.
AN: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I thought this idea might be a good fit for this @jacklesversebingo prompt.
Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU
Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack
Word Count: 4.6K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Racism/racial slurs, attempted sexual assault (not successful), protective Dean, angst, some violence and some action.
🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!
Part 1: Pride & Prejudice
June 1872
Dean hears some of his men shouting, along with the telltale cracking of bone that would make a less seasoned soldier wince. He spares a look to Benny, his Lieutenant, and sets down his glass of whiskey.
Dean’s path takes him brusquely out of his office and toward the stables. He grabs his gun and his hat on the way there, setting the latter on his head.
Is it too much to ask for one night where he can drink in peace?
Dean comes to find a young woman being detained by two of his men, Kline and Novak. Roman sports a bloody nose and his eye is already beginning to swell. The woman fights against their hold.
Even under the pale moonlight, Dean notes the way she’s dressed: a deer skin dress cinched at the waist, over thin pants and shoes. He surveys her tan skin, her black hair that blends into the night, twisted into a long braid, and the anger in her dark eyes.
“What have we got here?” Dean says. He stows his gun in its holster as he approaches her, resting his hands at his belt.
“I caught her breaking into the stables, Captain,” Roman says. He prods with a hiss at his busted nose while trying to stem the bleeding. That’s going to be a bad break.
She remains tight lipped, stubborn.
“Probably doesn’t even understand English. Savage bitch,” he says. Dean shoots him an impassive look to cover up his annoyance.
“Put a cork in it, Roman,” he orders. Then, he focuses back on her. “You’re a Lakota, aren’t you?”
Aside from their main mission here in the Dakota Territory, the Colonel has been fixed on fighting back against the Lakota Indians, especially after they sabotaged the supply line last month.
The proud tilt of the woman’s chin is her only answer to Dean’s question. Her gaze drags down his form with disdain, like he’s the savage. His mouth twitches mirthlessly.
“The Lakota rear up their own horses pretty damn well. Why would you want to steal one of ours?” he asks.
She glances away from him, first at her feet, then over at the camp’s latest “guest.” Dean, Benny, and a few of his men wrangled up a horse a few days ago. He’s a beautiful Kiger mustang with a nasty mean streak. He barely got through a trim this afternoon, and almost took a chunk out of Rufus when he tried to brand the horse.
The Colonel ordered them to tie the horse up to a post just outside the corral—no food or water for three days. He’d turned to Dean with a firm set to his face and issued a single order.
“Break him.”
Now, Dean catches the furtive look the Lakota woman gives the horse, who flicks his tail. The animal stares right at her, as if into her eyes.
“Oh, don’t tell me you here for him,” Dean says with a chuckle. “That thing’s a little too much for you, sweetheart.”
That earns her attention, steely and unimpressed.
“He is too much for you,” she says. Her voice is smooth, and would even be pleasant, if not for the circumstances. “He is one of ours. You will never break him.”
Dean's eyes widen a fraction. He glances back at the mustang.
So that's why she's here, he thinks. She's trying to mount a rescue. Dean feels a twinge deep inside, but he can't allow himself to care about that. They've collected a strong horse that will be a good support for their objectives here, once he's broken.
“Ah, well see,” Dean says, tipping his Stetson up to meet her gaze. “That’s kind of our specialty.”
“Sir, should we take her to the stockade?” Novak asks. He seems reluctant to do so to a woman, even an Indian, but he’s always been good at following orders.
Dean opens his mouth to reply, but another voice cuts him off. Colonel Asmodeus Sanderson steps out and takes a look at their captive.
“Not the stockade,” he says, with that Southern drawl that betrays his Kentucky roots. “Not yet.”
He approaches her with a slow, calculated gait. His hands gather behind his back. Dean gives her credit for looking Sanderson in the eye. She seems rightly wary, but not afraid.
“We won’t hurt you. I give you my word,” the Colonel says, “if you’ll lead us to your people’s camp.”
He takes a hold of her chin, turning her face this way and that, like he’s examining a dirty animal, and all that he’ll have to do to make it clean. She spits in his face.
Dean bites the inside of his lip against a smile. She’s got as much fight in her as the mustang. However, he has to school his face back into stoicism when Sanderson rears back in anger.
The harsh smack rings out in the clearing, along with the woman’s cry. Dean doesn’t allow himself to outwardly react, but inside, his spine tightens as he fights his instincts.
Only Kline and Novak’s hold on her arms keeps her upright. She pants for breath, but again, she meets the Colonel with a face that doesn’t give away anything, despite the reddening mark on her cheek.
“The post,” he barks. “Three days. No food or water.”
Dean is kept busy by his duties. He makes sure the camp is running in order, accepting shipments of supplies and ammunition, among other things. Cas Novak is in charge of the stables, caring for the horses and putting them through their training. Jack Kline is young and strong and a good assistant, along with others in his unit.
Right now, Dean and Benny are going over the plans with Colonel Sanderson for continuing construction on the railroad, from here to the Black Hills. It’s a path that cuts straight through Sioux territory—the bands of Dakota and Lakota Indians that occupy the land.
“The natives are fightin’ us tooth and nail,” Sanderson says. “But maybe our guest will be able to help us…negotiate.”
Dean remains quiet, ignoring yet another uneasy twinge in his gut. He didn’t join the army to fight the Indians. He doesn’t always understand their way of doing things, but he understands why they fight—to protect their land, and to protect their own. It’s the same reason Dean fights, when he has to.
He joined the army because…well, it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His father had been a Cavalry Major, and he’d died an honorable death, now about a decade past.
Has it really been ten years? Christ.
Dean wipes his brow. Even with the windows open, the office is humid and smells like ass. He glances outside, where both the mustang and the woman are tied to their posts under a sweltering sun at high noon.
Not for the first time, Dean wonders what his dad would think of him now.
After the meeting, Dean and Benny fall into step together to inspect the camp. The summer sun shines hot on their blue uniforms, and occasionally they raise their hats to mop the sweat from their brows.
Things are running as usual, but many of the men’s eyes occasionally turn to the posts. Dean’s attention wanders there too without him realizing, catching on the woman’s dark hair. It shines even blacker in the sunlight, like a raven’s wing. He knows the shade because his dad used to have a feather kept in his journal, like a bookmark.
“You okay, brother?” Benny asks. Dean realizes what he’s doing, and his attention returns to the task at hand. Get it together.
Always forward, never backward.
“Just fine,” Dean replies. Benny gives him a knowing look.
“A bit unsavory, ain’t it?” he says. “Keeping her chained up without even a lick of water.”
“The Indians are getting smarter, bolder. They’re ambushing our men, going after our supply lines, and now, stealing our horses,” Dean says. “This is strategy.”
Benny shrugs slightly, making a sound of agreement. Dean hesitates, his gloved fingers flexing against his sides.
“If she was a man, you guys wouldn’t give a shit about putting a bullet through her head,” Dean says.
Benny’s gaze shifts downward. He doesn’t reply, but he concedes the point all the same.
They continue their route, and Dean keeps the rest of the conversation on the work at hand.
Mila has gone far longer without drink, but the sun is particularly unforgiving today. She’s prayed and prayed for even one cloud to glide overhead and shield her for a while. It’s not much better for her companion. He paces in place, occasionally tugging his head against the rope that binds him to his post.
She makes a clicking sound at the horse, getting his attention. She calls him by his name, and his ears flicker in her direction. He offers her a short whinny in response.
“I see you, Mato. I am with you,” she says in her native tongue. She hopes the sound of her voice will soothe him. He looks tired and hungry, but his eyes flick hard and untrusting on any man who comes near him. His spirit isn’t broken.
“Hey! Shut the hell up over there,” Roman shouts at her from where he and Cas are taking a short lunch break. Cas gives him a certain look, crossed mostly with annoyance.
Mila resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she closes them and tilts her face back to the sun. In a way, it feels cleansing. Maybe it can wash away the stench of the White Men’s hands on her body, manhandling her, checking her for weapons.
She spends the rest of the day watching the camp. One of their leaders, the Green Eyed One, called this a fort. It does look fortified, with tall walls made of thick wood constructed to form a cage—whether to keep others out, or to keep the men and horses in.
She identifies the Colonel as their chief, of a kind. Green Eyes is second in command, followed by the Bearded One with a strange voice. Even the scruffy Blue Eyed One has some authority, mostly over the Child Faced One. There are too many others to rank them all, but she knows the Loud Mouthed One is arrogant, even after she broke his nose. The way he carries himself, he clearly thinks he has more power than he actually has.
In her mind, Mila conjures up different plans of escape. All of them fall short in some way. The men didn’t find all of her weapons; a small knife is hidden deep in her boot. She could saw at her binds within an hour, but even with Mato to carry her out and away, the problem is escaping this camp without alerting the men. Without getting shot.
She has three days to think.
That night, the moon refuses to give her clarity. Her stomach is too empty, her throat too dry, her tongue thick in her mouth. Her attention shifts in and out of consciousness, until the sound of boots crunching in the dirt trills unease down her spine. More alert, she sits up straighter.
The Loud Mouthed One. The one they call Roman comes to taunt her, offering her water, then drinking for himself instead. He comes closer to examine her. He has a small bind over his broken nose.
“You know, you’re a pretty one,” he says, taking another cold sip as his gaze drags over her form. “For a wild thing.”
His face nears hers, clean shaven, though his thin smile reminds her of a rattlesnake. Dread and repulsion churn at odds in her stomach as she realizes what he's really here for. It doesn't matter if he truly wants her, or just wants to pay her back for his face. Either way, he means to take her here in the dirt.
She looks away, not wanting to let him see her fear, or the dread tightening her stomach, rising into her throat. He winds long fingers into her hair. At first the hold is gentle, deceptive. Then it's tight against her scalp. She hisses in pain when he tugs her head back and forces her to look at him. Her breathing quickens as she tries to pull away.
He draws in close to try and claim her in a kiss, but she head-butts him, hard.
He cries out and stumbles back, his flask falling to the ground.
He angrily grabs her and hauls her up to her feet. He pushes her hard against the post and unbuckles his belt, just to stuff it in her mouth. With his free hand, he begins to undo his pants.
She refuses to cry out, even though she spits out his belt and fights him, trying to kick out his knees.
Suddenly, the man’s body is ripped away from her. Mila loses her footing and falls to the dusty ground, sliding against the wooden beam she’s tied to. The wind is knocked out of her, but when she raises her head, she watches with wide eyes as the Green Eyed One beats the other man into the dirt. It doesn’t take much, just a few well-placed fists.
Roman lies there catching his breath, and he spits a wad of phlegm and blood. His left eye will match his nose, that’s for sure.
Green Eyes looks angry and disgusted. He huffs and puffs while staring down at his subordinate. He pushes back his short brown hair and points an ungloved hand at Roman.
“Get back to the goddamn barracks. You’re gonna be mucking out stalls until shit’s coming out of your ears,” he growls.
Roman doesn’t argue, though it’s obvious that he wants to. He just picks himself up, makes a show of straightening up his open uniform jacket while catching his breath. He walks past Green Eyes with a resentful, angry look. Green Eyes watches him until he disappears inside.
Then, he turns to her. His gaze softens somewhat, but it’s still unreadable. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his thighs. Mila’s gaze briefly falls to his hands. They’re calloused, the hands of a laboring man. He carries himself like a warrior.
“Sorry about that,” he says.
It’s not what she expected. Mila eyes him warily when he moves closer. She presses her back against the post until it hurts her spine. He raises up his hands placatingly.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says.
“That is what your Colonel said,” she says. Her voice cracks with dryness. “I didn’t believe him either.”
His lips flicker at a rueful smile. It wrinkles crow’s feet around his eyes, breaking his stony face.
“Fair enough.”
He reaches for his belt and retrieves a flask, similar to the one his subordinate carried. He extends it out to her.
“It’s water, unless you prefer whiskey. I know I do,” he says.
She raises a brow at him, but hearing the sloshing inside the flask, her thirst takes over her wariness, and even her pride. She tentatively leans forward. He brings it closer so she can press her lips to the opening. Despite his Colonel’s orders, he lets her drink as much water as she’s able. When she’s done, he pockets the flask and sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
That, she will not give him. Names are sacred to her people, and this man, while seeming to have a shred of honor, isn’t worthy.
“Don’t wanna even tell me your name?” he says. He nods slightly. “Okay, well, I’m Dean. Captain Winchester, to this band of delinquents.”
He gestures around the camp with a dismissive hand. Mila only watches him. She’s never seen a White act like this, breaking his leader’s rules, being…kind.
What a strange man.
But if he had any real convictions, he would untie her and let her go, along with Mato. She won’t hold her breath.
Dean’s brows raise up toward his hairline, and his full lips form a pout. Realizing he’s not going to get anything more from her, he lets out a tired huff and straightens up.
“Well, goodnight,” he says.
He finally leaves her alone, but she can’t help but follow the swaggering path of his bowed legs and heavy boots. They carry him away and back indoors.
A strange man.
By the morning of the third day, Dean is ready to do what he does best. Or at least, one thing he does best.
He’s no stranger to horses. He grew up on a farm in Lawrence, Kansas, where he and his brother would help take care of the animals. Dean was older, so he helped his father till the land and train the horses. Sometimes he and Sam would sneak off and race their favorite ones, until their mom called them back for dinner.
In fact, part of what earned Dean his rank in the U.S. Cavalry was how well he could command a horse. His own is resting in the stables.
Today, he’s getting in the ring with the mustang.
…Well, not right away. He lets a few of his guys go first to tire him out. Even after three days of no food or water, the horse is living up to his bad attitude. He bucks each of them off after just a few seconds in the corral. Dean can tell it’s becoming a kind of game for the horse. His dun-colored coat shines in the sun, his brown socked legs kicking up dust and manure as he brays angrily at whoever tries to mount him.
Dean notices the Lakota woman watching with an amused smile on her face while she sits with her hands tied to her post. She’s enjoying the show, like she knew this would happen. It seems to give her energy every time another man is thrown off the horse and limps out of the ring.
Dean shakes his head. Pitiful.
He puts two gloved fingers to his mouth and whistles the entire clearing to attention. He saves Kline the chance to bruise his spine and pats him on the shoulder. Dean steps into the corral and positions himself into the stirrups, wrapping the reins around his hand. The horse is breathing hard, but he’s not done. He’s still got fight in him. Dean sees it in his brown eyes.
“All right, mustang. You’re big and bad. I get it,” Dean says lowly. “But I don’t scare easy. Gimme your best damn shot.”
Cas and Benny give him wary looks from where they stand outside the gate.
“Hold onto your hat, Cap,” Benny mutters.
Dean adjusts his hat and rests his gun on the post for safe keeping. He wants to feel as natural as possible, like it’s just him and this horse, out back in his family farm. He holds on tight to the reins. He’s fully prepared for how the mustang takes off at a galloping clip around the ring. He twists and bucks, but Dean claps his thighs tight and holds on for the ride.
The horse gets smarter.
He runs for the water trough just outside the ring. He slams Dean against the side of it once, twice—and manages to throw him off, with Dean landing right in the water trough.
He bursts out from the dirty water, sopping wet and spluttering in anger. He looks over at the horse trotting around, whinnying and tossing his head like he’s laughing. Dean can’t help it. His anger fades, and he smiles.
This guy’s got some brass balls, I’ll give him that.
The Lakota woman laughs. Dean hears it and his head swivels toward her. She bites her lip, but she knows she’s been caught. Despite his injured pride, Dean’s lips curve with a smirk. Just gonna laugh at me, huh?
“I see things are going well,” comes a familiar drawl.
Dean’s face falls as he looks up and finds Colonel Sanderson. Dean pulls himself out of the trough and tries to squeeze some water out of his uniform. He clears his throat.
“Well, uh, it’s going, sir. Just gonna take a little more time than I thought,” Dean says. He quickly reclaims his hat from the ring, giving the mustang a smart berth. After he climbs back out, he goes over to the post where he left his pistol.
“Hold him steady,” Sanderson barks out the order, but not at Dean. The other men wrangle the horse back into the pen, where Sanderson climbs up and mounts the horse himself.
To his credit, he stays on longer than even Dean thought he would. The mustang gallops and circles. He tries slamming Sanderson on the sides of the corral, tries bucking him and bucking him, but the man clings on, even when his hat falls into the dirt.
The horse is exhausted. He eventually stops in the middle of the ring, panting for breath, his legs shaking slightly. Dean straightens at attention.
So does the Lakota woman, he notices. She looks worried, her brows furrowing.
Sanderson swipes a hand over his graying hair and moustache to collect himself. He raises his head with an arrogant smile.
“You see, gentlemen. Any horse can be broken,” he says. He kicks the horse with his spur. “Move along, mustang.”
To everyone’s amazement, the horse obeys him. He moves forward at a slow clip. All the men applaud, even Dean, belatedly.
“There are those in Washington who believe the West will never be settled,” Sanderson continues. “The Northern Pacific Railroad will never breach Nebraska.”
His gaze draws over to the woman. Her eyes are filled with tears as she watches the Colonel makes his rounds.
“A hostile Lakota,” he says in derision, “will never submit to providence.”
She stares back at him with steel in her watery eyes.
Dean doesn’t realize his jaw is clenched tight until he feels the strain in his jaw. He forces himself to relax, with his hand on his dampened belt.
“And it’s that kind of small thinking that would say this horse would never be broken,” Sanderson says. “Discipline, time, and patience. That’s all you need to level a wild thing.”
Just then, the horse stops abruptly.
“Mustang?” Sanderson asks in warning.
Dean tenses. He knows what’s about to happen.
“Sir!” he calls out.
But it’s too late.
The stallion revs and charges, bucking even wilder than before. He swings his head and rears back high on his hind legs with a powerful bray. Sanderson yells in fear and strain, but he stays on the creature’s back.
The horse’s angry eyes take on a darker shade of conviction. When all four of his hooves hit the ground, he finally bucks hard enough to get the Colonel off his back, though he still clings to the reins near the animal’s head. He comes face to face with the horse’s crazed eyes. His own are wide and full of terror.
Hot breath heats Sanderson’s face. Then the horse swings his head and tosses the man out of the ring. In the process, the horse falls on his side and shatters a section of the wooden beams that fenced him in.
While he shakes his head and gets his hooves under him, Dean and Benny help the Colonel up to his feet. His uniform is a wreck, and now, with a bruised body and likely a couple of broken ribs, the man is fuming.
Kline and Roman wrangle the horse’s reins and keep him more or less in place. The Colonel shoves Dean and Benny off of him. He reaches for his gun at his belt and aims it at the mustang. Dean goes rigid in shock, but he knows he can’t interfere. If he does, it could warrant some major discipline.
The Colonel pulls the hammer back on the revolver, but before he can pull the trigger, the sound of cutting rope and a feminine yell breaks the silence in the clearing. The Lakota woman pulls the Colonel’s arms down, and the gun goes off into the ground. Her elbow comes up quick to strike the man between the eyes. He careens back into Benny, who catches him.
Meanwhile, the woman swings up onto the mustang. She grabs a stronghold by the neck and barks something in her native language. It spurs the horse onward, and he breaks through the crowd of men at a gallop.
Dean watches with widening eyes and furrowing brows. “Shit!”
He runs to the stables where he finds Baby waiting for him. Her black coat ripples as she stamps impatiently.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he beckons. He leads the mare out of the stable, and after grabbing a coil of rope from the supply bench, he mounts her smoothly. With a subtle kick of his heel, she picks up speed to follow the mustang and his rider.
They’re already approaching the gate where the men are quickly trying to close it. There’s still a window of opportunity for escape, but not only is Dean on their heels, Roman also stands on a pile of crates filled with iron parts that are due to be shipped out in the morning for continued construction on the railroad. Roman holds a rifle. He trains his weapon on the woman, taking deadly aim.
Dean’s jaw clenches and his brows furrow. He knows then, in the breadth of a few seconds, that he has to make a choice. If he does nothing, both she and the horse are as good as dead.
Sam used to call him reckless, stubborn as the horses he spent long hours taming.
Right about now, his brother is probably right.
Dean reaches for his gun, aims, and shoots within the span of those seconds. Roman goes down before he even knows what hits him. His chest plumes with blood after he slides down the crates and flops heavy to the ground. His eyes stare unseeing at the crisp blue sky.
The mustang tears through the narrow opening in the gate, and Dean isn’t far behind. The woman is an excellent rider, far better than he expected her to be. She clings to the horse’s neck and mane, and she doesn’t even use the stirrups. She clings on when the horse leaps over rocks, and when she notices Dean tailing her, she urges the horse at an even faster gallop.
Dean’s face furrows with determination. Baby is built for speed too.
He gives her a little kick with his heel. “Come on, Baby. Go!”
He’s able to keep up with the mustang just a few yards behind, even when they reach rougher terrain, going further up and into a canyon. He follows them through every curve and dip, guiding his horse just as much as she's guiding him.
Dean takes his rope in hand and turns it above his head, but his attempt to lasso the mustang's neck fails; the woman saws straight through the rope with her knife.
"Damn it!" Dean mutters.
He's forced to let go of his frayed rope when he and Baby nearly careen off the edge of a cliff. His heart settles high in his throat as he grits his teeth, but he pulls back on the reins hard and leans in the opposite direction. Baby's able to bank left, saving them from a long way down to certain death.
They continue up the narrow path the mustang has trod ahead. It carves around and through the mountain.
Dean mentally grasps for a plan, aside from just keeping up. Without even a bit of rope, he doesn’t know how he’s going to slow the woman down without hurting her or the horse. He doesn’t want to have to use his gun.
Eventually, the canyon breaks into a patch of desert, and then, grassy plains and tall forest trees. The mustang begins to tire and slow to a stop. His rider murmurs soothing things to him, stroking his neck. She turns back to look at Dean over her shoulder in dismay. She knows she’s caught.
“All right, sweetheart. That’s enough,” Dean says.
He sidles up next to her and intends to grab the mustang’s reins.
That’s when her swift kick comes, dead in his forehead.
AN: And here we go! 😅 Feels right that November is Native American Indian Heritage Month. 🫶🏽 For that reason especially I've done my best to do the Lakota people justice, even in this little series and complete work of fiction.
There's a lot packed in this first chapter, and yep, I did borrow a bit of scene from one of the best scenes in Spirit as an homage. From here on out, we're literally going off road...
Next Time:
Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and his hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.
“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.
The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.
Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.
Dean has a problem.
Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock…
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2
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My 𝐓𝐨𝐩 24 𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬 from 2024🎉
Thanks @theplottdump for the tag, mwah! <3
-> tagging @kissalopa @sharona-sims @limeysims @mosneakers @eurosimmer @waaneco @pixelshary @pudsim @polarmoon @butteredfrogs @simsfvr @whyeverr @buildbuymode @zorteh @philodendrontrait @kazroze @marcishaun @nervousgnome @charsimsalot @enchantsims (sorry if you've been tagged/done this already! and no pressure if you dont want/can't do it, just have fun ˙ᵕ˙ ) and anyone whose my dummy brain forgot, please feel free to do so if you want too ♡
I don't have screenshots for every month unfortunately, (i took an almost two year break and came back to the game for real around april of this year) so this will be just 24 random screenshots i love (in no particular order). Not much happens in my game because i don't interfere that much, but i hope this isn't too boring heh
The usual Realm of Magic shenanigans: distracting Simeon from his job, fangirling over L. Faba, and old man being old.
Ellie's house renovation was my favorite thing to decorate over the months. I'm always adding things to it, and by things i mean frogs. All of the frogs.
Her garden is also my favorite place to be. Sometimes i just like to watch the bunnies running around, the grass moving, the birds chirping... and then i remember the game is running. It's really nice though.
Change doesn't happen very often in my game, but something cute sparked between these two after i decided to stop constantly ignoring and re-rolling her wants. I'm not gonna say much about it cause - and i know it's not that serious - i'm still processing it two months later lol, maybe one day...
Life and Death was so much fun, Ravenwood is now my favorite world to visit! I had no plans of getting the pack anytime soon, so i still can't believe i got to play with it when it released (thanks little fairy ♡)
Some of my favorite edits i've done this year. Apart from Ellie's shot (which was taken with no reshade on a day the game had some crazy good lighting), the others were done while i was trying to learn some stuff from one of my favorite editor's (strange-townie) speed edit videos. I hope i get more time this year to practice and learn more! (before & after album)
Favorite pictures of Ellie's best friends: old goofy lvl. 1 wizard relaxing in his new home & the unbothered rebel sage.
This year i also got to play with my favorite nerdy gamer boy. He was just a sim from a cas practice thing i did. I don't usually get attached to random sims i make, but for some reason he was just very special to me ( ꈍ ᴗ ꈍ ) ♡
I wanted to end this by saying i'm very grateful for everything i have experienced this year, and the warm welcome i've received. I'm really happy some people like my silly saturated pictures :D i promise next year i'll annoyingly fangirl and obsess over other people's lovely creations even more, so thanks for making this place such an inspiring one to be ♡ Happy holidays!◝( ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ )◜₊ ⊹₊ ⊹
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happy holidays ❄️
As another year slowly comes to a close, I want to take a moment to say thank you and appreciate the WoT fandom, especially our little Siuaraine corner.
These past three years have brought so much creativity, connection, and joy into my life, and I can’t express how much this space means to me. Thank you for being part of it, for your kindness, your talent and for making it feel like home.
Whether you celebrate or not, I hope you’re having an amazing holiday season and getting a chance to relax 🤍
#my art#moiraine damodred#siuan sanche#moiraine x siuan#siuanraine#siuaraine#the wheel of time#wheel of time#wot on prime#wheel of time fanart#siuaraine fanart#wot fanart#digital fanart#artists on tumblr#moiraine sedai#fanart#queer art#small artist#artbythorod
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If you're re-reading TCF from the start, my advice to you would be to read with a slightly different perspective. Instead of taking the dialogues as conversation between two characters, take it as advice to yourself. Whether it's the Henituse family motto of Living for peace and happiness, or Cale's words to Alver Your existence is natural, or Lee Soo Hyuk's advice to Kim Roksoo Being alive is the best. All of these are words that have given me newfound hope in life. We often lose ourselves to the fast-paced world's competitiveness. A single failure makes us hopeless and we feel worthless because of it. TCF has always been a beacon of hope for me in times of darkness. The other name of TCF is healing. It's a story that heals not just Kim Roksoo but all of us readers as well. And I'm so thankful to Yoo Ryeo Han-nim for creating such a story.
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Christmas in Hell
a very hazbin christmas, full of joy, cheer and a party for the ages
Alastor x reader
Reader needs the perfect gift for Angel Dust but has to ask a certain someone for help. Just a little fluffy holiday special.
You would think after death the holidays wouldn't be very important. In hell, especially you would think since they're not big fans of the big guy in charge that they wouldn't celebrate a certain someone's birth. Well Charlie Morningstar was not going to let those facts ruin her super-duper fantastical holiday party.
Christmas Eve
Despite the lack of Christmas spirit Angel Dust was booked and busy letting Santa come down the chimney in a few special videos to be released the next day. Even though his stocking was being filled early you, as his best friend, were stressing over the perfect gift to get him.
Earlier in the week, Charlie has gathered everyone in the hotel to the main space where she had set up a giant tree that reached the ceiling. Charlie and her partner Vaggie, covered in pine needles and wearing lumberjack clothing, held Husk's hat full of folded slips of paper open for the circle.
"Hiiiii everyone! Hope you're all merry and ready for a fun group bonding exercise!" Charlie began.
She was met with loud groans and signs. "Shut up and listen to Charlie she put a lot of work into this," Vaggie huffed with rage.
"Thanks Vaggie. Anyways, I've set up a secret Santa for everyone to- HEAR ME OUT OKAY yes so you'll choose a name and then on Christmas we'll swap gifts and it will be so fun!" Charlie explained while passing the hat along and giggling and staring you down when she picked a piece of paper.
Since you had died quite young, your family hadn't make it to Hell yet or they made are in the place above, so you haven't celebrated since making your way to the after life, so this sounded like fun. But you couldn't resist a playful eye roll as you chose your paper reading Angel Dust to yourself.
Husk groaned while picking from his hat and then placing it on his head, "I thought through death I escaped obligatory in-law get togethers but now I have this shit."
Fast forward back to present day you were still stuck on what you could get him. Adult toys? No give him a break from work. Drugs? Not that you want to encourage that habit. Nifty had been no help when you asked. Muttering on about bad boys and cleaning. You didn't bother with asking Husk. Sir Pentious was still being coached on the whole secret Santa concept. Vaggie and Charlie had too many good ideas but none felt right for Angel Dust. This left you with only one option.
Knocking twice on the radio demon's door, your face twisted with instant regret and immediately started back down the hallway. "Leaving so soon? Now here I was thinking you saved the best for last." The gaze of his knowing smile burned the back of your head as you swiveled around.
"Sorry Alastor it was stupid idea I'll leave you to do... whatever you were doing."
"Nonsense my dear! Why I'd be happy to help my favorite guest with a gift for a certain effeminate fellow!"
"How did you-"
Alastor let out his practiced laugh, "Discretion is not one of your strengths (y/n)."
Your cheeks set alight hearing Alastor call you by your first name, no pet name or teasing nicknames. He held the door open and you avoided his gaze while leading inside. The great radio demon sauntered over to his large cherry wood desk inside his room and sat in a leather cushion maroon chair. Due to the lack of seating options, you hovered near the edge of his bed while le smiled and motioned for you to take a seat with a teasing glint in his eye.
Mustering up the courage to break the silence you asked, "I thought you didn't allow visitors inside your room."
Twiddling with his microphone cane Alastor responded, "I can make exceptions."
"I don't have any VoxTek on me by the way. Just in case you wondered."
A sound came from him, almost like a real giggle but you must of been mistaken. "I know (y/n)."
"Well since you seem to know everything what would be the perfect gift for Angel Dust that will show I'm a wonderful friend?"
"I can only give you hints, would spoil the game if I told you."
You groaned and fell back against the bed. Of course coming to Alastor was a mistake. As if an overlord would want to help silly you buy a silly gift for a silly holiday.
"Cheer up dearie! You're closer to the answer then you might think."
Eyebrows furrowed and dread he might make a fool of you, you asked him for the first hint.
"Something to do with your weekly film Friday events perhaps?"
"It's actually called freaky Friday because of our shared love of movies from the noughties." You said with a cheeky grin. "Angel also loves a dirty joke whenever it's possible to have one."
"Ah yes you, the spider ,and the swine all cuddled together in your matching pajamas on the settee watching princess makeovers and assistant makeovers and-"
"Hey it's more than just makeovers!" However, the comment gave you an idea, "Oh my god what if I get him a Fat Nuggets blanket?"
A round of applause played while Alastor called out "Ding ding! We have a winner!"
Letting out a sheepish smile and thank you, you rose from the bed ready to search for a way to get this made by the end of the day. Then a perfectly wrapped gift appeared in front of your face and dropped into your hands. Your head whipped in the direction of the smiling demon across the room.
"Is this what I think it is? How did you have it already?"
"I know you."
With a flushed face and full arms you made your way out of the room and through the doorway. Only halfway through the walk to your bedroom did you realize Alastor knew of your movie nights and took note of the matching pajamas. The radio demon noticed you.
Christmas Day
A giant fire roared in the hearth as bells rung and music played around the hotel. Excitement filled the air as the originally dismissive group exchanged gifts to each other. You and Angel Dust hung together watching the others until you announced you had something for him.
"Aw (y/n) you're my secret Santa?"
You snatched the Santa hat off Angel Dust's head in embarassment and placed it on your own as you laughed, "Had to get something for my ho ho hoe."
After a fit of giggles said spider unwrapped his gift and his eyes lit up, "If you had a dick I'd suck it so hard right now thank you doll."
Christmas was a success and you could finally breathe a sigh of relief and a laugh at your best friend's words as he snuggled himself within the blanket along with its muse in his lap.
Charlie rose up to give her gift as you prepared yourself with being thankful and happy no matter what she gave you. Until she turned to Nifty with a gift that turned out to be a new dress for her. Filled with confusion you swore to Angel that you thought Charlie got you due to her obviousness. Then the young Morningstar turned again to look above you and smiled so brightly.
Both yours and Angel Dust moved to see what she was smiling at behind you only to be face to face, or well chest, of the radio demon. Grinning down at you with his hands behind his back he laughed and said, "Happy Christmas from your secret Santa."
"What? I thought for sure it was Charlie."
"We struck a sort of deal," Alastor explained while behind your back Charlie gave a thumbs up as the rest of the crew stopped to watch.
The gift was handed to you as you carefully unwrapped it, conscious of all the eyes currently on you or rather what a scary overlord has given you as a gift. Inside was a beautifully crafted music box with carvings of your favorite flowers and sculptures of little deer in a meadow. You opened the box and your ears are met with an instrumental version of your favorite song.
"How did you-"
"Like I said I know you (y/n)."
Suddenly Charlie's voice bellowed, "Look who's under the mistletoe!" As if you couldn't be any more red from this interaction you now looked up to see that very mistletoe above you and Alastor. Your facial expression fell realizing this was going to be so awkward, being rejected in front of everyone despite it not being caused by you. Full of thoughts on how to escape or come up with a nonchalant response to not even being wanted for one measly peck and planning when you'll disappear to nurse your ego, you were distracted from the real world. That was until a pair of lips met your own in a soft yet hungry kiss. The moment felt like eternity yet also a millisecond at the same time. Before you could return the kiss, the deer demon pulled back and with a wink, walked away.
Shocked faces and silence filled the room as no one expected Alastor's actions. Lightly touching your lips, you thought maybe Christmas in Hell isn't so bad.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#the radio demon#christmas fic
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Minase, we promised to write each other letters on our birthdays. I think you’ll probably read this letter, so it’ll never be sent. I probably won’t even get a reply. But it’s okay because there’s only one thing I want to say in this letter. I’m glad I got to be your friend. If I hadn’t met you, I’d probably have hated myself for the rest of my life. Spending time with you made me want to be a better person for the first time. You’re very different from me and seem too special for me. So it makes me think you’re great. You being you makes me want to be the person worthy of you. Thank you for making me feel that way. I actually don’t want to go to another school. I want to be with you forever. But that’s my own selfishness. When you’re with me, bad things happen. You’re better off without me. Sad as this is, it’s how I see it. I wanted to smile and greet you for the last time, but did I give you a good smile?
I probably already knew that I liked you. But if I said it out loud, I felt you’d stay away from me, so I was afraid. I think after this, I may want to see you again. No matter how long it’ll be, I’ll always want to see you.
So take care of yourself. I wish you happiness.
#miseinen#miseinen mijukuna oretachi wa bukiyo ni shinkochu#our youth#our youth the series#hirukawa x minase#japanese bl#mjblr#i will always be unwell over this
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